RICHARD    CUMBERLAND 


RICHARD    CUMBERLAND 


RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

THE  ORIGINAL   PAINTING   BY   ROMNEY   IS  IN  THE  NATIONAL   PORTRAIT  GALLERY 


RICHARD    CUMBERLAND 

HIS   LIFE  AND   DRAMATIC 
WORKS 


BY 
STANLEY  THOMAS  WILLIAMS,   PH.D. 


NEW  HAVEN:    YALE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

LONDON:    HUMPHREY  MILFORD 

OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

MDCCCCXVII 


COPYRIGHT,  1917 
BY  YALE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 


First  published,  September,  1917 


To   C.   M.   W. 


I 


1657 


PREFACE 

THREE  years  ago  the  writer  was  led  by  the  renewed 
interest  in  eighteenth  century  drama  to  begin  a  study 
of  the  plays  of  Richard  Cumberland.  He  ends  his  work 
today,  believing  that  the  real  interest  of  his  book  lies  less 
in  the  plays  than  in  the  personality  of  their  author. 

Sources  for  this  Life  of  Cumberland  have  been  found 
in  the  collections  of  plays,  memoirs,  diaries,  and  letters 
in  the  Yale  and  Harvard  University  libraries,  and  in 
original  manuscripts  of  Cumberland  in  the  British 
Museum.  Material  has  been  drawn  directly  from  the 
Memoirs  of  Richard  Cumberland,  written  by  himself, 
published  in  1806,  and  from  Mudford's  Life  of  Richard 
Cumberland,  which  appeared  in  1812,  one  year  after  the 
death  of  the  dramatist.  Unannotated  quotations  relative 
to  Cumberland's  life  should  be  ascribed  to  the  Memoirs. 

The  bibliography  contains  a  complete  record  of 
authorities  used  but  does  not  attempt  a  compilation  of  the 
innumerable  editions  of  Cumberland's  fifty-eight  plays. 
It  has  seemed  best,  also,  in  what  is  primarily  a  biography 
of  Cumberland,  to  omit  much  of  the  stage-history  of  his 
more  obscure  plays.  An  exhaustive  account  of  these  may 
be  found  in  a  thesis  by  the  present  writer,  deposited,  in 
1915,  in  the  Yale  University  Library.  A  general  essay 
upon  Cumberland's  dramas  is  forthcoming  in  the  Publi- 
cations of  the  Modern  Language  Association. 

I  wish  to  express  my  gratitude  to  Professor  George  H. 
Nettleton,  who  has  directed  my  work.  My  thanks  are 
also  due  to  Professor  Chauncey  B.  Tinker;  Mr.  Richard 
D.  Cumberland-Jones  of  Ewen,  Cirencester;  Major 


viii  PREFACE 


General  Cumberland,  C.B.,  of  the  Manor,  Maidstone; 
Mr.  J.  P.  Gilson,  of  the  Department  of  Manuscripts  of 
the  British  Museum;  Mr.  George  van  Santvoord,  of  the 
Winchester  School;  Mr.  Robert  Gould  Shaw,  of  Welles- 
ley,  Massachusetts;  Miss  Clara  B.  Underwood;  Miss 
R.  B.  McLean;  and  Miss  Mary  Lee  Rockwell  of  Meri- 
den,  Connecticut. 

S.  T.  W. 

Yale  College,  New  Haven,  Connecticut 
May  i,  1917 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface       .......  vii 

I.     Birth  and  Early  Education  ...  i 

II.     College  and  Political  Ventures       .           .  19 

III.  Early  Dramatic  Efforts         ...  39 

IV.  Garrick — The  Brothers        ...  44 
V.     The  West  Indian — David  Garrick           .  59 

VI.     The  Fashionable  Lover         .  .  .          88 

VII.     Dramatic  Achievement — Goldsmith         .        105 
VIII.     Dramatic    Achievement     (continued)   — 

Sheridan — Death  of  Garrick  .        133 

IX.     Johnson  and  His  Circle          .  .  .159 

X.     Ambassadorship  to  Spain      .  .  .172 

XI.  At  Tunbridge  Wells  as  Man  of  Letters — 
The  Walloons — The  Mysterious 
Husband  .  .  .  .  .184 

XII.     At  Tunbridge  Wells    (continued)— The 

Carmelite — The  Observer       .  .        201 

XIII.  Renewed  Success— The  Jew— The  Wheel 

of  Fortune  .  .  .  .231 

XIV.  Cumberland's    Novels — Brother    Drama- 

tists .....        245 

XV.     The  Veteran  Cumberland     .  .  .        264 

XVI.     Cumberland's  Dramas  .  .  .        302 

Bibliography         ......        330 

Index  .  .  .  .  .  .  -351 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

Richard  Cumberland,  from  a  painting  by  Romney, 

Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

The  Brothers,  Act  I 52 

The  West  Indian,  Act  IV 76 

The  West  Indian,  Act  II 82 

The  Fashionable  Lover,  Act  I 94 

Richard  Cumberland,  from  a  painting  by  Romney  .  1 16 

The  Wheel  of  Fortune,  Act  I           238 

Richard  Cumberland,  from  a  painting  by  Clover  .  264 


CHAPTER  I 
BIRTH  AND  EARLY  EDUCATION 

life  of  Richard  Cumberland  has  been  neglected 
for  more  than  a  century.  It  was  a  life  of  achieve- 
ment, but  achievement  without  the  divine  fire;  of  industry 
without  inspiration;  of  strong  and  varied  talents  without 
genius.  It  was  a  life  of  success  and  disappointment,  a 
life  ennobled  by  service  for  England  and  England's  litera- 
ture, yet  pitifully  defaced  by  weakness.  But  it  was  a  life 
so  human  that  its  interest  blows  away  the  dust  of  the  years, 
and  leaves  discovered  a  personality  real,  vital,  and  unique 
in  the  history  of  English  letters.  Seldom  has  the  allur- 
ing riddle  of  literary  personality  been  more  stimulating 
or  more  insoluble.  In  1785  Fanny  Burney  wrote:  'How 
has  he  got  these  two  characters — one,  of  Sir  Fretful 
Plagiary,  detesting  all  works  but  those  he  owns,  and  all 
authors  but  himself;  the  other  too  perfect  even  to  know 
or  conceive  the  vices  of  the  world,  such  as  he  is  painted 
by  Goldsmith  in  Retaliation?  and  which  of  these  char- 
acters is  true?'1 

It  is  not  as  a  literary  eccentric  that  Cumberland 
compels  interest.  Nor  do  his  forgotten  works  bring 
back  the  fame  of  'The  Terence  of  England.'  Poems, 
novels,  essays,  and  plays  have  perished  deservedly,  and 
brilliant  bits  of  prose  alone  survive  as  symbols  of  their 
author's  power.  Cumberland's  life  was,  first  of  all,  one 
of  great  friendships.  In  the  three-quarters  of  a  century 

1  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  5.257. 


RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 


which  he  spanned  he  was  the  friend  of  men  no  less  dif- 
ferent in  temperament  and  time  than  Samuel  Johnson 
and  Thomas  Moore ;  in  his  literary  musings  may  be  found 
personal  revelations  of  the  great  figures  of  the  two  ages 
in  which  he  lived.  He  was  a  friend  of  Garrick,  a  patron 
of  Romney,  and,  thirty  years  later,  he  knew  Lord  Byron, 
Walter  Scott,  and  Samuel  Rogers.  He  thus  became  a 
picturesque  link  between  the  literary  circles  of  the  eight- 
eenth and  nineteenth  centuries. 

Richard  Cumberland  boasted  that  he  was  'descended 
from  ancestors  illustrious  for  their  piety,  benevolence 
and  erudition/  He  came  of  a  family  long  distinguished 
for  services  to  the  church  and  literature  of  England  and 
by  virtue  of  his  heritage  of  scholarly  ideals  he  seemed 
destined  to  carry  forward  the  torch  of  learning.  His 
paternal  great-grandfather  was  Richard  Cumberland,  the 
friend  of  Samuel  Pepys.  This  scholar  and  philosopher, 
whom  Cumberland  praises  for  his  approach  towards 
'consummate  rectitude,'  was,  in  1691,  made  the  Bishop 
of  Peterborough,  enjoyed  wide  renown  as  a  divine 
and  metaphysician,  and  when  forty  published  his  De 
Legibus  Naturae,  a  work  of  significance  among  ethicists.2 

The  next  Richard  Cumberland,  the  only  son  of  Bishop 
Cumberland  and  the  grandfather  of  our  dramatist,  was 
the  rector  of  Peakirk  in  the  diocese  of  Peterborough,  and 
also  Archdeacon  of  Northampton.  Of  his  two  .sons, 
Richard,  the  elder,  died  unmarried  at  the  age  of  twenty- 
nine,  and  it  was  reserved  for  the  younger,  Denison,  to 
uphold  the  traditions  of  the  family.  That  this  some- 
what ascetic  ideal  was  attained  there  can  be  little  doubt, 
for  his  son,  the  subject  of  this  life,  gives  an  earnest  testi- 
monial of  his  good  works.  'I  declare  to  truth,'  he  says, 

2  See  The  Philosophical  Review,  4.3;  Bibliotheca  Sacra,  43.528. 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  EDUCATION 


'I  never  yet  knew  one  so  happily  endowed  with  those 
engaging  qualities,  which  are  formed  to  attract  and  fix 
the  love  and  esteem  of  mankind.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
whole  spirit  of  his  grandfather's  benevolence  had  been 
transfused  into  his  heart,  and  that  he  bore  as  perfect  a 
resemblance  of  him  in  goodness  as  he  did  in  person.' 

At  the  age  of  twenty-two  Denison  Cumberland  married 
Joanna  Bentley,  and  was  persuaded  by  his  father-in-law, 
Doctor  Bentley,  to  accept  the  rectory  of  Stanwick  in 
Northamptonshire.  Here  he  lived  quietly  for  thirty  years 
with  'all  men's  good  word  in  his  favour  and  their  services 
at  his  command.'  Once  only  did  he  show  his  power  of 
action.  In  the  dark  days  before  Culloden,  when  all  stars 
seemed  obscured  save  the  Pretender's,  and  the  rebels 
were  advancing  upon  Derby,  he  loyally  assembled  and 
enrolled  for  the  King  two  companies  of  one  hundred  men 
each,  taking  them  in  person  to  the  Earl  of  Halifax. 
Many  of  these  men  lost  their  lives  at  the  siege  of 
Carlisle.  Denison  Cumberland's  consequent  favour  with 
Halifax  brought  him,  after  a  few  years  passed  in  the 
vicarage  of  Fulham,  near  London,  promotion  to  the 
bishopric  of  Clonfert. 

Ireland  had  sore  need  at  this  time  of  stout-hearted 
missionaries.  In  a  country  where  violence  was  often  the 
sole  lord,  and  where  amazing  ignorance  of  the  simplest 
means  of  life  prevailed,  Bishop  Cumberland  vigorously 
plied  his  practical  Christianity.  From  'a  nook  of  land' 
on  the  river  Shannon,  'on  all  sides  save  one  surrounded 
by  an  impassable  bog,'  he  directed  his  'tribe  of  labourers, 
gardeners,  turf-cutters,  herdsmen  and  handicraft  men  of 
various  denominations.'  Many  anecdotes  have  survived 
of  his  fight  against  barbarism.  Among  these  is  the 
story  of  Thomas  O'Rourke,  a  tale  often  told  at 


RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 


Samuel  Rogers's  dinner  table  by  Richard  Cumberland. 
O'Rourke,  who  was  a  labourer  in  the  Bishop's  garden, 
had  already  displayed  his  enthusiasm  for  the  family  by 
throwing  'a  proper  parcel  of  oatmeal  into  the  air  as  a 
votive  offering,'  and  burning  his  wig  to  their  success. 
'When,'  says  the  Memoirs  of  Richard  Cumberland,  'my 
father  came  down  to  Clonfert  from  Dublin  it  was 
announced  .  .  .  that  the  bishop  was  arrived:  the  poor 
fellow  was  then  in  the  act  of  lopping  a  tree  in  the  garden; 
transported  at  the  tidings,  he  exclaimed — "Is  my  lord 
come?  Then  I'll  throw  myself  out  of  this  same  tree  for 
joy — ."  He  exactly  fulfilled  his  word,  and  laid  himself 
up  for  some  months.'  During  the  last  years  of  his  life 
Denison  Cumberland  served  the  more  civilized  see  of 
Kilmore.  He  died  in  1774  while  his  son  Richard  was 
at  Bath. 

Perhaps  it  was  from  the  maternal  side  that  the  subject 
of  our  study  derived  greater  inspiration  for  scholarly 
endeavour.  His  lineage  includes  no  greater  name  than 
that  of  his  grandfather,  Richard  Bentley.  In  1804  the 
grandson  writes:  'His  person,  his  dignity,  his  language, 
and  his  love  of  learning  fixed  my  early  attention,  and 
stamped  both  his  image  and  his  words  upon  my  memory.' 
Cumberland's  story  of  his  own  childhood  is  a  mosaic  of 
Bentleian  episodes.  For  him  Bentley  was  never  the  stern 
enemy  of  Swift  and  Pope,  but  rather  the  friend  and  pro- 
moter of  boyish  sports.  Many  times  the  young  Cum- 
berland broke  in  upon  him  in  his  study,  and,  far  from 
rebuking  him,  Bentley  would  'ring  his  handbell  for  his 
servant,  and  be  led  to  his  shelves  to  take  down  a  picture 
book.'  Cumberland  declares  that  he  received  but  one 
reproof  from  Bentley, — this  after  a  thundering  game  of 
battledore  and  shuttlecock  over  the  scholar's  study ! — and 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  EDUCATION  5 

that  he  enjoyed  his  intervention  in  the  family  discipline. 
'When,'  Cumberland  says,  'I  was  rallied  by  my  mother, 
for  roundly  asserting  that  I  never  slept,  I  remember  full 
well  his  calling  on  me  to  account  for  it;  and  when  I  ex- 
plained it  by  saying  I  never  knew  myself  to  be  asleep,  and 
therefore  supposed  I  never  slept  at  all,  he  gave  me  credit 
for  my  defence,  and  said  to  my  mother,  "Leave  your  boy 
in  possession  of  his  opinion ;  he  has  as  clear  a  conception  of 
sleep,  and  at  least  as  comfortable  an  one,  as  the  philoso- 
phers who  puzzle  their  brains  about  it,  and  do  not  rest 
so  well."  ' 

Cumberland's  accounts  of  Bentley's  benevolence  at 
home  have  picturesque  interest,  though  they  surprised  the 
generation  that  read  the  Memoirs.  'Slashing  Bentley 
with  his  desperate  hook'  will  persist,  however  much  Cum- 
berland denounced  Pope  for  having  written  his  couplets. 
The  poet's  observations  upon  Bentley's  hat  moved  Cum- 
berland to  rather  absurd  protest.  Pope  writes: 

His  Hat,  which  never  vailed  to  human  pride, 
Walker  with  reverence  took,  and  laid  aside. 

Cumberland's  defence  of  his  grandfather's  hat  is  not 
without  a  humorous  aspect.  'The  petulant  poet,'  he  says, 
'who  thought  he  had  hit  his  manner,  when  he  made  him 
haughtily  call  to  Walker  for  his  hat,  gave  a  copy  as  little 
like  the  character  of  Bentley,  as  his  translation  is  like 
the  original  of  Homer.  That  Doctor  Walker,  vice- 
master  of  Trinity-College,  was  the  friend  of  my  grand- 
father, and  a  frequent  guest  at  his  table,  is  true ;  but  it  was 
not  in  Doctor  Bentley's  nature  to  treat  him  with  contempt, 
nor  did  the  harmless  character  inspire  it.  As  for  the  hat,  I 
must  acknowledge  it  was  of  formidable  dimensions,  yet  I 
was  accustomed  to  treat  it  with  great  familiarity,  and  if  it 
had  ever  been  further  from  the  hand  of  the  owner  than 


RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 


the  peg  upon  the  back  of  his  great  arm-chair,  I  might 
have  been  dispatched  to  fetch  it,  for  he  was  disabled  by 
the  palsy  in  his  latter  days;  but  the  hat  never  strayed 
from  its  place,  and  Pope  found  an  office  for  Walker,  that 
I  can  well  believe  he  was  never  commissioned  to  in  his 
life.' 

The  worship  of  Bentley's  genius  by  the  Cumberland 
family  occasionally  took  the  form  of  regretting  that  it 
had  not  been  creative.  On  Cumberland's  mother  lament- 
ing to  her  father  that  so  little  of  his  talent  had  been 
given  to  original  work,  'Bentley  acknowledged  the  justice 
of  her  regret  with  extreme  sensibility,  and  remained  for 
a  considerable  time  thoughtful  and  seemingly  embar- 
rassed by  the  nature  of  her  remark;  at  last  recollecting 
himself  he  said,  "Child,  I  am  sensible  I  have  not  always 
turned  my  talents  to  the  proper  use  for  which  I  should 
presume  they  were  given  me :  yet  I  have  done  something 
for  the  honour  of  my  God  and  the  edification  of  my 
fellow  creatures;  but  the  wit  and  genius  of  those  old 
heathen  beguiled  me,  and  as  I  despaired  of  raising 
myself  up  to  their  standard  upon  fair  ground,  I  thought 
the  only  chance  I  had  of  looking  over  their  heads  was  to 
get  upon  their  shoulders."  This  reverence  of  Bentley's 
for  scholarship  deeply  influenced  Cumberland. 

The  influence  was  strengthened  by  his  mother,  Joanna 
Bentley  Cumberland.  When,  in  1714,  John  Byrom  wrote 
his  gay  Colin  and  Phebe  for  The  Spectator,  all  declared 
that  Phebe  could  be  no  other  than  Joanna  or  'Jug' 
Bentley. 

My  time,  O  ye  Muses,  was  happily  spent, 
When  Phebe  went  with  me  wherever  I  went; 
Ten  thousand  sweet  pleasures  I  felt  in  my  breast : 
Sure  never  fond  shepherd  like  Colin  was  blest ! 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  EDUCATION  7 

But  now  she  is  gone,  and  has  left  me  behind, 
What  a  marvellous  change  on  the  sudden  I  find ! 
When  things  seemed  as  fine  as  could  possibly  be, 
I  thought  'twas  the  Spring ;  but  alas !  it  was  she. 

Cumberland  affirms  that  his  mother  was  the  inspirer  of 
these  lively  lines,  but  it  now  seems  far  more  likely  that 
the  poet  had  in  mind  his  own  sister,  Phebe  Byrom.  If 
not  Byrom,  Miss  Bentley  stirred  other  singers,  and  had 
her  day  as  the  toast  of  beauty  and  wit.  Mr.  Vere  Foster, 
writing  his  friend,  James  Bonwicke,  in  1722,  sends  him 
'what  has  been  a  long  time  the  vogue  of  every  tea  table 
in  college,  namely,  Mr.  Prior's  Lamentation  for  the  loss 
of  Mrs.  Joanna  Bentley.'  These  verses,  written  by  E. 
Prior,  give  a  happy  picture  of  youth  and  mirth.  They 
run,  in  part : 

Exil'd  from  Juggy,  from  the  window  driven, 

Each  rhymer's  subject,  and  each  coxcomb's  heaven, 

From  strains  of  love  in  strains  of  grief  I  flow, 

And  tune  my  fiddle  to  melodious  woe, 

Doomed  to  lament  (O  transitory  dream!) 

The  loss  of  beauty  and  the  loss  of  cream.8 

But  'Juggy'  was  Richard  Bentley's  daughter.  It  was 
she  who  aroused  and  formed  the  boy's  literary  taste, 
opening  for  him  Shakespeare's  realm  of  gold,  and  show- 
ing him  the  visions  of  the  inward  eye.  His  first  dramatic 
piece,  Shakespear  in  the  Shades,  was  a  result  of  her 
teaching.  'She  had,'  says  her  son,  'a  vivacity  of  fancy 
and  a  strength  of  intellect,  in  which  few  were  her  supe- 
riors :  she  read  much,  remembered  well  and  discerned 
acutely :  I  never  knew  the  person,  who  could  better  embel- 
lish any  subject  she  was  upon,  or  render  common  incidents 

8  Nichols,  Literary  Anecdotes  of  the  Eighteenth  Century,  1.224. 


8  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

more  entertaining  by  the  happy  art  of  relating  them.  .  .  . 
There  hardly  passed  a  day,  in  which  she  failed  to  devote 
a  portion  of  her  time  to  the  reading  of  the  Bible;  and 
her  comments  and  expositions  might  have  merited  the 
attention  of  the  learned.  Though  strictly  pious,  there 
was  no  gloom  in  her  religion,  but  on  the  contrary,  such 
was  the  happy  faculty,  which  she  possessed,  of  making 
every  doctrine  pleasant,  every  duty  sweet,  that  what  some 
instructors  would  have  represented  as  a  burden  and  a 
yoke,  she  contrived  to  recommend  as  a  recreation  and 
delight/  Cumberland's  final  tribute  to  this  unusual 
woman  is  suggestive  of  her  part  in  his  life :  'All  that  son 
can  owe  to  parent,  or  disciple  to  his  teacher,  I  owe  to 
her.' 

An  ardent  hereditarian  with  a  knowledge  of  Cumber- 
land's ancestry  would  willingly  hazard  a  guess  concerning 
his  character.  Nor  would  the  place  of  his  birth  seem 
meaningless.  He  was  born,  on  February  19,  1732,  in 
the  Master's  Lodge  of  Trinity  College,  under  the  roof 
of  Doctor  Bentley,  and  literally,  as  he  himself  says, 
Inter  sylvas  Academi.  Yet  in  the  earliest  years  the  child 
was  not  the  father  of  the  man.  His  first  picture  of  him- 
self is  as  a  tiny  mutineer  against  the  alphabet,  rebelling 
against  all  learning,  and,  in  particular,  against  the  one 
hundred  and  fifteenth  psalm,  which  he  had  been  com- 
pelled to  absorb  entire.  Cumberland  found  no  brothers 
to  vie  with  him,  but  had  the  humiliation  of  seeing  his 
sister  Joanna,  who  was  two  years  older,  far  outstrip  him 
in  learning. 

Other  buffets  lay  in  store  for  him.  Reluctant  students 
had  no  place  in  the  Cumberland  family,  and  at  the  age 
of  six  Richard  was  sent  to  school  at  Bury  St.  Edmund. 
Bury  St.  Edmund  School,  whose  system  was  based  upon 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  EDUCATION 


that  of  Westminster,  was  at  this  time  prosperous  and 
of  high  standing  as  an  educator  of  younger  boys.  Arthur 
Kinsman  was  then  head-master,  and  ruled  his  one  hundred 
and  fifty  charges  with  a  hand  at  once  stern  and  kindly. 
The  descendant  of  Richard  Bentley,  who  was  Kinsman's 
life-long  friend,  received  no  inconsiderable  share  of  the 
pedagogue's  attention.  Kinsman  is  reported  to  have  said 
to  Doctor  Bentley:  'Master,  I  will  make  your  grandson 
as  good  a  scholar  as  yourself.'  And  to  this  Bentley  in 
the  like  vein  of  raillery  replied:  'Pshaw,  Arthur,  how 
can  that  be,  when  I  have  forgot  more  than  thou  ever 
knew'st?'  Kinsman's  prophecy  was  fulfilled  in  a  greater 
measure  than  he  had  expected;  the  name  of  Bentley  was 
not  disgraced  by  Cumberland.  Kinsman  and  Bentley, 
more  than  others,  brought  the  boy  Cumberland  to  a 
knowledge  of  himself  and  of  his  powers. 

Cumberland's  own  account  of  his  intellectual  dawn 
has  interest:  'The  penetrating  eye  of  old  Kinsman  dis- 
covered the  grandson  of  his  friend  far  in  the  rear  of 
the  line  of  honour,  and  in  fair  train  to  give  the  flattest 
contradiction  to  his  prophecy.  Whereupon  one  day, 
which  by  me  can  never  be  forgotten,  calling  me  up  to 
him  in  his  chair  at  the  head  of  the  school,  he  began  with 
much  solemnity  to  lecture  me  very  sharply,  whilst  all 
eyes  were  upon  me,  all  ears  open,  and  a  dead  silence, 
horrible  to  my  feelings,  did  not  leave  a  hope  that  a 
single  word  had  escaped  the  notice  of  my  school-fellows. 
I  well  remember  his  demanding  of  me  what  report  I 
could  expect  him  to  make  to  my  grandfather  Bentley.  I 
shuddered  at  the  name,  even  at  that  early  age  so  loved 
and  revered:  I  made  no  defense;  I  had  none  to  make, 
and  he  went  thundering  on,  farther  perhaps  than  he  need 
to  have  gone,  had  he  given  less  scope  to  his  zeal,  and 


io  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

trusted  more  to  his  intuition,  for  the  keenness  of  his 
reproof  had  sunk  into*  my  heart;  I  was  covered  with 
shame  and  confusion;  I  retired  abashed  to  my  seat,  which 
was  the  lowest  in  the  school :  I  hid  my  face  between  my 
hands,  resting  my  head  upon  the  desk  before  me,  and 
gave  myself  up  to  tears  and  contrition :  When  I  raised 
my  eyes  I  thought  I  discovered  contempt  in  the  counte- 
nances of  the  boys.'  'At  that  moment,'  declares  Cumber- 
land, 'the  spirit  of  emulation,  which  had  not  yet  awaked 
in  my  heart,  was  thoroughly  roused.' 

A  pleasanter  picture  of  the  youthful  Cumberland  and 
his  mentors  has  come  down  to  us  from  a  visit  paid  by 
Kinsman  to  Bentley  at  Trinity  Lodge,  where  the  boy 
passed  his  holidays.  Encouraged  by  the  gentler  manners 
of  the  schoolmaster  outside  the  classroom,  he  stood  by 
the  savants,  eyes  and  ears  open.  He  heard  Bentley 
declare  that  Barnes  knew  as  much  Greek  as  'an  Athenian 
blacksmith';  that  Pope's  Homer  was  'an  elegant  poem 
but  no  translation';  that  while  Warburton  possessed  a 
voracious  appetite  for  knowledge,  he  had  not  'a  good 
digestion.'  Best  of  all,  he  heard  Greek  roll  'in  torrents 
from  the  lips  of  Bentley  as  the  most  learned  of  moderns 
chanted  forth  the  inspired  rhapsodies  of  the  most  illus- 
trious of  antients  in  a  strain  delectable  indeed  to  the  ear.' 
These  were  good  hours  for  Cumberland. 

Kinsman's  public  shaming  had  shaken  his  very  soul, 
and  he  now  set  about  his  work  in  sober  earnest,  display- 
ing at  once  the  trend  of  what  was  to  be  a  powerful  mind. 
He  was  soon  in  his  rightful  place  at  the  head  of  the 
school.  'I  entered  the  lists,'  he  says,  'with  all  possible 
advantages,  and  soon  found  myself  able  to  break  a  lance 
with  the  very  best  of  my  competitors.'  Two  of  the  com- 
petitors were  the  brothers  Warren,  later  distinguished  in 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  EDUCATION 11 

the  church  and  in  medicine.  Cumberland's  serious  pur- 
suit of  learning  was  encouraged  by  private  coaching 
from  Kinsman.  'From  this  time,'  he  writes,  'I  may  truly 
say  my  task  was  my  delight.  I  rose  rapidly  to  the  head 
of  my  class,  and  in  the  whole  course  of  my  progress 
through  the  upper  school  never  once  lost  my  place  of 
head  boy,  though  daily  challenged  by  those,  who  were  as 
anxious  to  dislodge  me  from  my  post  as  I  was  to  main- 
tain myself  in  it.'  It  is  possible  to  see  in  this  over-serious 
youthful  point  of  view  the  beginning  of  a  habit  which 
darkened  many  later  hours. 

Even  Cumberland's  pranks  had  a  bookish  tinge.  With 
his  fellows  he  planned  a  surreptitious  performance  of 
the  tragedy  of  Cato.  Cato's  entire  costume  consisted 
of  'a  full  bottomed  periwig,'  while  Portia  and  Marcia 
rejoiced  in  raiment  borrowed  from  the  maids  of  a  near-by 
lodging-house.  The  Thespians  were  discovered;  'the 
virtuous  Marcia,'  played  by  'a  most  ill-favored,  wry- 
necked  boy,'  was  heartily  cuffed  by  Kinsman;  and  the 
dramatis  personae  were  publicly  chagrined.  Cumberland, 
who  had  essayed  the  role  of  Juba,  received  as  his  share 
of  the  general  punishment  the  tenth  satire  of  Juvenal. 

Perhaps  these  compulsory  verses  stimulated  the  writing 
of  others.  Certainly  during  the  last  years  at  Bury  the 
boy's  main  interest  lay  in  experimenting  with  versifica- 
tion. The  first  attempt  was  a  hundred-line  description 
of  the  docks  at  Portsmouth  and  the  races  at  Winchester. 
The  lines  bear  no  trace  of  poetic  power,  and  the  sole  sur- 
viving quatrain  suggests  the  reason  for  their  existence: 

Since  every  scribbler  claims  his  share  of  fame, 
And  every  Cibber  boasts  a  Dryden's  name, 
Permit  an  infant  muse  her  chance  to  try  ; 
All  have  a  right  to  that,  and  why  not  I  ? 


12  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Another  poetic  effort  of  no  value,  but  of  interest  as  fore- 
shadowing the  future  was  the  pseudo-dramatic  production, 
written  at  the  age  of  twelve,  christened  Shakespear  in  the 
Shades.  Divers  unhappy  personages  from  the  pages  of 
Shakespeare  are  discovered  in  Elysium,  and  here  the 
poet  comes,  'the  instrument  of  Providence,'  to  comfort 
them.  A  long  speech  in  prose  by  Shakespeare  begins  the 
drama,  and  the  reader  is  then  introduced  into  the  sur- 
prising assembly  of  Hamlet  and  Ophelia,  Romeo  and 
Juliet,  and  Lear  and  Cordelia.  The  piece  concludes  with 
a  moral  dialogue  between  Romeo  and  Shakespeare. 

The  sheltered  life  of  Bury  St.  Edmund  with  the  long 
vacations  at  Stanwick  was  soon  exchanged  for  one  of 
more  rigid  discipline.  In  1744  Cumberland  entered 
Westminster  School.  The  lustre  of  Westminster's  past 
doubtless  affected  him  strongly.  Here  were  reverenced 
the  names  of  Udall,  Camden,  Herbert,  Donne,  Cowley, 
Dryden,  and  Locke,  and  a  host  of  other  distinguished 
sons.  Although  only  in  his  thirteenth  year,  Cumberland 
was  placed  in  the  Shell,  or  intermediate  form.  His 
school-fellows  bade  fair  to  uphold  the  honour  of  West- 
minster. Vincent  Bourne  was  then  usher  of  the  fifth 
form.  'I  love,'  writes  William  Cowper,  'the  memory  of 
Vinny  Bourne.  I  think  him  a  better  Latin  poet  than 
Tibullus,  Propertius,  Ausonius,  or  any  of  the  writers  in 
his  way,  except  Ovid,  and  not  at  all  inferior  to  him.  I 
love  him,  too,  with  a  love  of  partiality,  because  he  was 
the  Usher  of  the  Fifth  Form  at  Westminster  when  I 
passed  through  it.  ...  I  remember  seeing  the  Duke  of 
Richmond  set  fire  to  his  greasy  locks,  and  box  his  ears  to 
put  it  out  again.'4  Pierson  Lloyd,  the  father  of  the  more 
famous  Robert  Lloyd,  and  under-master  in  1748,  was 

4  The  Correspondence  of  William  Cowper,  Wright  ed.,  1.310. 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  EDUCATION  13 

in  the  fourth  form,  and  Clayton  Cracherode,  later 
renowned  as  an  antiquarian,  was  in  the  head  election. 
Cumberland  found  Cracherode  'as  grave,  studious  and 
reserved  as  he  was  through  life;  but  correct  in  morals 
and  elegant  in  manners,  not  courting  a  promiscuous 
acquaintance,  but  pleasant  to  those  who  knew  him, 
beloved  by  many  and  esteemed  by  all.'  The  story  is  told 
of  this  recluse  that  though  he  had  a  very  curious  chest- 
nut tree  on  his  grounds  in  Hertfordshire,  he  knew  of  it 
only  by  means  of  a  drawing  in  his  possession. 

Cumberland  has  little  to  say  about  his  school-fellows 
at  Westminster.  He  dismisses  casually  such  well-known 
figures  at  Frederick  Augustus  Hervey,  fourth  Earl  of 
Bristol,  George  Hobart,  third  Earl  of  Buckinghamshire, 
and  Thomas  Harley,  twice  Lord  Mayor  of  London.  He 
says  nothing  of  Warren  Hastings,  although  he  must  have 
known  him  in  all  the  charm  of  his  youth,  his  sweet,  kindly 
nature  making  him  beloved  at  Westminster.  'What,' 
once  exclaimed  the  doctor,  when  there  was  talk  of 
Hastings  leaving  the  school,  'lose  Warren  Hastings!  lose 
the  best  scholar  of  his  year!  ...  he  shall  go  on  with  his 
education  at  my  charge.'5  Of  George  Colman,  the  elder, 
and  Robert  Lloyd,  Cumberland  makes  but  passing  men- 
tion. Perhaps  his  rivalry  with  Colman  began  even  in 
these  early  years,  and  he  could  have  but  little  in  common 
with  Lloyd, 

born  sole  heir  and  single 
Of  dear  Mat  Prior's  easy  jingle. 

It  was  at  Westminster  that  Robert  Lloyd  first  met 
Churchill,  and  his  devoted  friendship  for  him  was  the 
real  cause  of  a  wasted  life.  It  is  possible,  though  not 

5  Forshall,  Westminster  School,  Past  and  Present,  239-40. 


i4  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

probable,  that  Cumberland  was  a  member  of  the  'Non- 
sense Club,'  'consisting  of  seven  Westminster  boys  who 
dined  together  every  Thursday.'  To  it  belonged  Bon- 
nell  Thornton,  Colman  the  elder,  Cowper,  Joseph  Hill, 
and  Robert  Lloyd.  The  little  space  given  these  men  in 
the  Memoirs  seems  to  prove  that  they  were  not  Cum- 
berland's close  friends.  But  Cowper,  who  roomed  in 
the  same  house  with  Cumberland,  found  him  clever  even 
in  those  days.6  In  regard  to  less  famous  members  of 
the  school,  Cumberland  is  eloquent.  He  has  much  to 
say  of  John  Hinchliffe,  Samuel  Smith,  and  William  Vin- 
cent, all  his  comrades,  and  subsequently  all  head-masters 
of  Westminster. 

As  at  Bury  St.  Edmund,  Cumberland  was  more  deeply 
affected  by  his  teachers  than  by  his  fellows.  Doctor 
Johnson,  later  Bishop  of  Worcester,  was  at  this  time 
second  master.  John  Nicoll  had  been  head-master  since 
I133^  and  his  manliness  had  long  since  won  the  affection 
and  respect  of  every  boy  in  the  school.  'Arthur  Kins- 
man,' says  Cumberland,  'certainly  knew  how  to  make  his 
boys  scholars;  Doctor  Nicoll  had  the  art  of  making  his 
scholars  gentlemen.'  Under  his  rule  public  contempt  was 
a  punishment  compared  to  which  the  sentence  of  the 
rod  would  have  seemed  an  acquittal  or  a  reprieve.  Cum- 
berland goes  on  to  tell  the  story  of  a  boy  who  had 
offended  the  high  spirit  of  the  school  by  a  dishonourable 
act.  Doctor  Nicoll,  after  laying  the  case  before  the 
seniors,  asked  their  opinion  of  the  misdemeanor,  and 
what  they  considered  a  just  punishment.  'Their  answer 
was  unanimously,  "The  severest  that  could  be  inflicted." 
"I  can  inflict  none  more  severe  than  you  have  given  him," 
said  the  master,  and  dismissed  him  without  any  other 

6  The  Correspondence  of  William  Cowper,  Wright  ed.,  3.336. 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  EDUCATION 75 

chastisement.'  Cumberland  himself  tested  the  doctor's 
discipline.  He  had  escaped  from  the  abbey  for  the 
purpose  of  disturbing  a  Quakers'  meeting,  and  was  called 
before  the  doctor.  'I  presume/  says  Cumberland,  'he 
saw  my  contrition,  when  turning  a  mild  look  upon  me,  he 
said  aloud,  "Erubuit  salva  est  res  (he  has  blushed;  all  is 
well),"  and  sent  me  back  to  my  seat.'  At  another  time 
Cumberland  was  guilty  of  a  literary  sin  which  an  enemy 
might  call  prophetic  of  future  evil  deeds.  He  handed 
in  to  Doctor  Nicoll  a  copy  of  Latin  verses  all  of  which 
he  had  pirated  from  Duport.  The  doctor,  having  read 
the  lines  aloud  to  the  seniors,  praised  them  highly.  This 
was  too  much  for  the  youthful  plagiarist,  and  he  con- 
fessed his  weakness.  'Child,'  said  Doctor  Nicoll,  'I  for- 
give you,  go  to  your  seat,  and  say  nothing  of  the  matter. 
You  have  gained  more  credit  with  me  by  your  ingenious 
confession,  than  you  could  have  got  by  your  verses,  had 
they  been  your  own.'  'Was  it  possible,'  says  Cumberland, 
'not  to  love  a  character  like  this?' 

Although  he  was  a  short  time  at  Westminster,  Doctor 
Nicoll  and  the  spirit  of  the  school  made  a  lasting  impres- 
sion upon  him.  He  remained  half  a  year  in  the  Shell 
and  one  year  in  the  sixth  form,  and  afterwards  declared 
his  deep  content  with  this  period  of  his  life.  'I  did  not 
indeed,'  he  says,  'drink  long  and  deeply  at  the  Helicon 
of  that  distinguished  seminary,  but  I  had  a  taste  of  the 
spring  and  felt  the  influence  of  the  waters.  In  point  of 
composition  I  particularly  profited,  for  which  I  conceive 
there  is  in  that  school  a  kind  of  taste  and  character, 
peculiar  to  itself,  and  handed  down  perhaps  from  times 
long  past,  which  seems  to  mark  it  out  for  distinction,  that 
of  having  been  above  all  others  the  most  favored  cradle 
of  the  Muses.' 


id RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

But  even  in  these  years  deeper  forces  than  those  of 
Westminster  left  their  mark  upon  Cumberland.  He 
had  now  his  first  sense  of  sorrow.  In  1746,  Joanna,  his 
eldest  sister,  fell  ill  in  London  of  the  smallpox,  and, 
after  a  distressing  illness,  died.  'My  father,'  writes 
Cumberland,  'who  tenderly  loved  her,  submitted  to  the 
afflicting  dispensation  in  silent  sadness,  never  venting  a 
complaint;  my  mother's  sorrows  were  not  under  such 
controul,  and  as  to  me,  devoted  to  her  as  I  had  been 
from  my  cradle,  the  shock  appeared  to  threaten  me  with 
such  consequences,  that  my  father  resolved  upon  taking 
me  out  of  town  immediately,  and  we  went  down  to  our 
abode  at  Stanwick,  a  sad  and  melancholy  party.'  Arch- 
deacon Cumberland's  decision  was  a  wise  one,  and  doubt- 
less saved  the  health  of  the  impressionable  Richard,  who 
suffered  for  some  time  a  dangerous  depression  of  spirits. 
In  his  anxiety  for  his  son  the  father  decided  against 
another  year  at  Westminster,  and  set  about  planning  for 
his  entrance  into  Trinity  College,  Cambridge. 

Before  these  plans  were  matured,  however,  occurred 
an  event,  seemingly  slight  in  itself  yet  full  of  meaning. 
While  staying  with  his  uncle,  Edmund  Ashby,  in  Peter 
Street,  Cumberland  visited  the  theatre.  Here,  on  a 
memorable  evening,  he  saw  Nicholas  Rowe's  Fair  Peni- 
tent,7 with  Quin,  Mrs.  Cibber,  and  David  Garrick  in  the 
principal  roles.  The  strange  new  genius  of  Garrick  was 
still  amazing  London.  'If  this  young  fellow  is  right,' 

7  The  Fair  Penitent  was  first  performed  at  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  in 
1703.  This  play,  Walter  Scott  said,  fell  as  far  below  Massinger's  play, 
of  which  it  was  an  adaptation,  as  the  boldest  translation  can  sink  below 
the  most  spirited  original.  In  Cumberland's  collection  of  essays,  called 
The  Observer,' may  be  found  a  detailed  comparison  of  Massinger's  Fatal 
Dowry  and  Rowe's  Fair  Penitent.  See  Nos.  77,  78,  79.  See  also  John 
Taylor,  Records  of  My  Life,  12.161.  Garrick  played  Lothario  in  The 
Fair  Penitent  for  the  first  time  on  December  2,  1741. 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  EDUCATION  17 

Quin  had  said,  'then  we  are  all  wrong!'  And  wrong  the 
old  actors  were.  Apostasy  flourished.  The  natural 
school  of  acting  had  come  to  stay.  While  the  conven- 
tional ranting  continued,  it  was  often  to  empty  benches, 
and  meanwhile  the  crested  chariots  of  England's  beau 
monde  thronged  the  narrow  streets  of  Goodman's  Fields 
where  the  greatest  of  actors  held  forth.  Garrick  and 
Quin  frequently  acted  together,  and  it  was  Cumberland's 
privilege  to  see  them  in  a  play  in  which  both  excelled. 

So  graphic  is  his  story  of  those  intense  moments  when 
he  saw  before  him  the  old  and  new  schools  of  acting  con- 
tending for  supremacy,  that  it  has  found  its  way  into 
numerous  records  of  the  stage,  and  must  be  requoted 
here.  The  glories  of  early  eighteenth  century  acting  can- 
not be  better  set  forth  than  in  the  following:  'Quin  pre- 
sented himself  upon  the  rising  of  the  curtain  in  a  green 
velvet  coat  embroidered  down  the  seams,  an  enormous 
full  bottomed  periwig,  rolled  stockings  and  high-heeled 
square-toed  shoes:  with  very  little  variation  of  cadence, 
and  in  a  full  deep  tone,  accompanied  by  a  sawing  kind  of 
action,  which  had  more  of  the  senate  than  of  the  stage 
in  it,  he  rolled  out  his  heroics  with  an  air  of  dignified 
indifference,  that  seemed  to  disdain  the  plaudits  that  were 
bestowed  upon  him.' 

Cumberland  was  from  the  first  an  excellent  judge  of 
acting.  He  found  Mrs.  Gibber's  'high-pitched  but  sweet 
.  .  .  strain'  wearisome,  'eternally  chiming  in  the  ear 
without  variation  or  relief.'  He  turned  from  her,  and 
from  Quin,  instinctively  unsatisfied,  and  was  instantly  con- 
verted to  the  new  school  of  acting  at  the  first  appearance 
of  its  leader.  'When,'  he  says,  'after  long  and  eager 
expectation  I  first  beheld  little  Garrick,  then  young  and 
light  and  alive  in  every  muscle  and  in  every  feature,  come 


i8  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

bounding  on  the  stage,  and  pointing  at  the  wittol  Alta- 
mont  and  heavy-paced  Horatio — heavens,  what  a  tran- 
sition ! — it  seemed  as  if  a  whole  century  had  been  stept 
over  in  the  transition  of  a  single  scene.  ...  I  thank  my 
stars,'  he  concludes,  'my  feelings  in  those  moments  led 
me  right;  they  were  those  of  nature,  and  therefore  could 
not  err.'  It  is  Cumberland's  instant  recognition  of  Gar- 
rick's  acting  as  the  only  true  art,  at  a  time  when  Garrick's 
methods  were  not  finding  complete  acceptance  in  audi- 
ences of  the  day,  that  establishes  his  judgment  of  dramatic 
values.  This  was  but  an  incident  in  a  long  lifetime,  yet 
it  created  Cumberland's  ideal,  and  was,  perhaps,  the 
beginning  of  a  devotion  to  Garrick  which  persisted  until 
the  actor  retired  from  the  stage. 


CHAPTER  II 
COLLEGE  AND  POLITICAL  VENTURES 

TN  1745,  in  his  fourteenth  year,  Cumberland  entered 
•••  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  During  the  first  two 
years,  however,  he  made  little  progress  towards  his  de- 
gree. Deserted  by  lazy  tutors,  and  thrown  upon  his  own 
resources,  he  passed  the  time  as  he  pleased.  But  his 
intensely  earnest  and  ambitious  spirit  forbade  all  dissi- 
pation, and  his  story  of  this  time  has  an  overtone  of 
priggishness.  'I  certainly  did  not,'  he  says,  'wantonly 
misuse  my  time,  or  yield  to  any  even  of  the  slightest 
excesses,  that  youth  is  prone  to:  I  never  frequented  any 
tavern,  neither  gave  nor  received  entertainments,  nor  par- 
took in  any  parties  of  pleasure,  except  now  and  then,  in 
a  ride  to  the  hills,  so  that  I  thank  God  I  have  not  to 
reproach  myself  with  any  instances  of  misconduct  towards 
a  generous  father.  .  .  .'  Free  in  mind  he  read  deeply 
in  his  beloved  classics.  Dr.  Richard  Bentley1  increased 
his  library  materially  by  the  gift  of  'a  valuable  parcel'2 
of  the  elder  Bentley's  books  and  papers.  In  letters  of 
Newton,  notes  for  a  Pharsalia,  and  many  manuscripts 
Cumberland  found  ore  well  worth  the  digging.  The 
young  man's  sensitive  nature  shrank  from  the  collisions 
of  daily  life;  it  is  small  wonder  that  these  quiet  days  at 
the  university  pleased  in  retrospect.  His  pleasures  were 

1  Rector   of   Nailstone,    a   nephew   of   Richard   Bentley,    Cumberland's 
grandfather.    Doctor  Bentley  inherited  his  uncle's  library. 

2  This  'parcel'  included,  also,  'a  considerable  number  of  Greek  and 
Latin  books,  mostly  collated,  [by  Richard  Bentley,  the  scholar]  and  their 
margins  filled  with  alterations  and  corrections  in  his  own  hand.' 


20  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

'those  intellectual  pure  enjoyments,  which  leave  no  self- 
reproach/  'With  the  works  of  my  ancestors  in  my 
hands,'  he  writes,  'and  the  impression  of  their  examples 
on  my  heart,  I  flattered  myself  in  the  belief  that  I  was 
pressing  forward  ardently  and  successfully  to  follow 
them  in  their  profession,  and  peradventure  not  fall  far 
behind  them  in  their  fame.' 

This  leisurely  manner  of  life  received  a  shock  in  his 
sudden  appointment  to  an  opponency  in  mathematics,3  and 
in  the  realization  that  he  had  not  yet  read  a  proposition  of 
Euclid.  By  the  aid  of  a  kindly  tutor,  his  name  was  erased 
from  the  act,  and,  stirred  by  this  warning,  he  now  devoted 
himself  to  direct  preparation  for  the  degree.  His  care- 
lessness changed  to  an  unwise  zeal.  For  six  months  he 
lived  in  a  kind  of  insane  simplicity,  studying  constantly, 
sleeping  but  six  hours,  'living  almost  entirely  upon  milk, 
and  using  the  cold  bath  very  frequently.' 

From  this  mode  of  life  the  candidate  emerged  weak- 
ened in  health,  but  a  master  in  the  learned  sciences.  He 
now  waited  eagerly  for  the  time  when  he  might  'keep  an 
act,'  as  the  engaging  in  a  college  debate  was  called.  The 
appointment  came.  Cumberland  confidently  faced  his 
rival,  who  proved  to  be  'a  North-country  black-bearded 
philosopher,'  famous  in  the  schools,  and  towering  over 
Cumberland  as  Goliath  above  David.  The  giant,  how- 
ever, sank  in  the  mire  of  his  own  Latinity,  and  Cumber- 
land gained  a  rather  easy  conquest.  He  kept,  in  all,  two 
acts  and  two  first  opponencies  with  credit.  During  the 

8  It  was  thus  Cumberland's  duty  to  be  an  opponent  in  an  academical 
disputation  for  a  degree,  a  part  for  which,  on  account  of  lack  of  definite 
study,  he  was  unfitted.  The  'act,'  which  was  formerly  a  thesis  publicly 
maintained  by  a  candidate  for  a  degree,  survives  now  at  Cambridge  in  the 
name  given  the  thesis  and  examination  for  the  doctor's  degree  in  divinity, 
law,  and  medicine. 


COLLEGE  AND  POLITICAL  VENTURES         21 

last  of  these,  his  health  gave  way,  and  he  fell  desperately 
ill.  After  six  months  of  trembling  on  the  brink  of  death, 
came  a  gradual  recovery,  hastened  by  the  news  that  he 
had  attained  high  rank  among  The  Wranglers*  The 
episode  is  an  early  instance  of  Cumberland's  industry  and 
tenacity  of  purpose. 

Upon  his  return  to  college,  Cumberland  took  the 
deferred  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts.  He  found  that  the 
triumphs  of  the  previous  term  had  won  him  a  position  of 
ease  and  credit  in  the  university.  His  experience  in  col- 
lege had  been  almost  wholly  intellectual,  and  his  achieve- 
ments in  classroom  and  lecture  hall  had  given  him  a  faith 
in  the  English  university  system  which  persisted  until  the 
end  of  his  life.  'I  would/  he  says,  'most  earnestly  impress 
upon  the  attention  of  my  reader  the  extreme  usefulness 
of  these  academical  exercises,  and  the  studies  appertain- 
ing to  them,  by  which  I  consider  all  the  purposes  of  an 
university  education  are  completed;  and  so  convinced  am 
I  of  this,  that  I  can  hardly  allow  myself  to  call  that  an 
education,  of  which  they  do  not  make  a  part.  .  .  .  What 
more  can  any  system  of  education  hold  out  to  those,  who 
are  the  objects  of  it,  than  public  honors  to  distinguish 
merit,  public  exercises  to  awaken  emulation,  and  public 
examinations,  which  cannot  be  passed  without  extorting 
some  exertion  even  from  the  indolent  .  .  .  ?'  Cumber- 
land's ideas  upon  education  are  cleverly  set  forth  in  The 
Observer,  a  descendant  of  The  Spectator,  which  he  pub- 
lished in  1785.  Geminus  and  Gemellus,  having  had  edu- 
cations based,  respectively,  upon  the  private  and  public 
systems,  after  some  years  meet.  'The  contrast,'  says 

4  In  Cumberland's  time  The  Wranglers  were  what  their  name  sug- 
gests: men  who  had  proved  their  power  in  public  disputation,  rather  than 
as  today,  the  first  class  in  the  elementary  division  of  the  public  examina- 
tion in  pure  and  mixed  mathematics. 


22  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

The  Observer,  'which  this  meeting  exhibited,  spoke  in 
stronger  terms  than  language  can  supply,  the  decided 
preference  of  a  public  and  liberal  system  of  education,  to 
the  narrow  maxims  of  private  and  domestic  tuition.  On 
Gemellus's  part  all  was  candour,  openness  and  cordiality; 
he  hoped  all  childish  differences  were  forgiven.  .  .  .  On 
the  side  of  Geminus  there  was  some  acting,  and  some 
nature;  but  both  were  specimens  of  the  worst  sort;  hypoc- 
risy played  his  part  but  awkwardly,  and  nature  gave  a 
sorry  sample  of  her  performances.'5 

There  is  an  unpleasant  dryness  about  this  period  of 
Cumberland's  life.  There  exists  no  hint  of  a  time  of 
storm  and  stress  which  has  tried  so  many  great  natures, 
no  suggestion  of  doubt,  of  the  anxious  choice  of  vocation. 
His  was  a  nature  seeking  instinctively  a  life  of  quiet,  of 
retirement  from  the  world,  and  asking  no  great  rewards 
from  those  without  the  walls  of  his  college.  The  main 
problems  of  his  life  were  solved.  Up  to  this  time,  no 
career  other  than  that  of  the  church  had  occurred  to  him, 
and  his  immediate  plan  was  for  three  years  of  study, 
culminating  in  a  fellowship  and  the  degree  of  Master  of 
Arts.  'These  views,'  writes  Cumberland,  'so  suited  to  my 
natural  disposition,  were  now  before  me,  and  I  dwelt 
upon  them  with  entire  content.'  But  far  other  than 
studious  ease  was  concealed  in  the  lap  of  the  gods. 

Before,  however,  the  unexpected  was  made  known, 
new  literary  adventures  befell  Cumberland,  all  expres- 
sions, perhaps,  of  his  deepest  life  experience,  the  striving 
for  intellectual  achievement.  The  first  venture  was  a 
Collectanea  of  his  studies,  containing  all  data  relative  to 
the  Boyle-Bentley  controversy,  while  the  second,  a  boyish 

5  The  Observer,  No.  37. 


COLLEGE  AND  POLITICAL  VENTURES         23 

dream,  attempted  no  less  than  an  Universal  History* 
The  ardour  of  this  flight  was  chilled  by  a  glance  at  the 
Oriental  languages,  far  beyond  the  young  historian,  and 
the  cosmic  work  dwindled  to  a  Review  of  the  Systems  of 
the  Heathen  Philosophers.  A  third  and  more  significant 
effort  was  the  writing  of  a  Greek  tragedy.  In  1752 
William  Mason  had  published  his  Elfrida,  and  Cumber- 
land, sharing  the  general  admiration,  composed  his 
drama,  Charactacus  [sic~\,  written  under  Mason's  influ- 
ence, and  containing  a  chorus  of  Bards  and  Druids,  with 
odes  'in  the  manner  of  Elfrida.'7  These  works  were  not 
printed. 

Cumberland's  health  was  still  unsteady,  and  a  journey 
to  York  was  suggested  by  his  father.  Here  he  vainly 
tried  the  art  of  idling,  and  passed  a  miserable  half-year 
in  attempting  to  enliven  his  rather  heavy  talents  to  please 
a  frivolous  household.  Some  of  the  disgust  of  the  serious 
student,  dragged  into  the  light  against  his  will,  is  reflected 
in  the  Memoirs:  'The  style  of  living  in  this  place  was  so 
new  to  me  and  out  of  character,  when  contrasted  by  the 
habits  of  study  and  retirement,  which  I  had  been  accus- 
tomed to,  that  it  seemed  to  enfeeble  and  depress  that 
portion  of  genius  which  nature  had  endowed  me  with;  I 
hunted  in  the  mornings,  danced  in  the  evenings,  and 
devoted  but  a  small  portion  of  my  time  to  anything  that 
deserved  the  name  of  study.' 

In  sheer  discomfort  Cumberland  flew  to  his  book  and 
pen,  to  compose  elegies  after  the  manner  of  Hammond,8 

6  This  material  was  used  later  in  a  verse  composition. 

7  See  James  Smith,  Comic  Miscellanies,  2.174. 

8  James   Hammond,   the  poet,  who  is  said   to   have  died  of  love  for 
Kitty  Dashwood,  the  friend  of  Lady  Bute.     His  verses  were   entitled: 

'Love   Elegies   by  Mr.   H nd.     Written    in   the  year   1730.'     Johnson 

declared  that  the  poems  had  'neither  passion,  nature,  nor  manners.' 


24  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

and  to  imitate  Spenser.  This  last  indulgence  Cumber- 
land counted  hardly  less  than  a  vice,  for  he  says  apolo- 
getically: 'I  had  no  books  of  my  own,  and  unfortunately 
got  engaged  with  Spenser's  Fairy  Queen,  in  imitation  of 
which  I  began  to  string  nonsensical  stanzas  to  the  same 
rhyming  kind  of  measure.  Though  I  trust  I  should  not 
have  surrendered  myself  for  any  length  of  time  to 
this  jingling  stream  of  obsolete  versification,  yet  I  am 
indebted  to  my  mother  for  the  seasonable  contempt  she 
threw  upon  my  imitations,  felt  the  force  of  her  reproof, 
and  laid  the  Fairy  Queen  upon  its  shelf.'  So  fortune  was 
balked  in  every  effort  to  lighten  a  mind  already  far  too 
serious  and  self-conscious.  The  essentially  introspective 
cast  of  this  mind  is  plain  from  Cumberland's  own  account 
of  the  vacation  at  York:  'Tranquility  not  dissipation,  or 
what  is  called  amusement,  was  the  restorative  I  most 
needed.  The  allurements  of  public  assemblies  and  the 
society  of  those,  who  resort  to  them,  form  so  great  a  con- 
trast to  the  occupations  of  a  student,  that  instead  of  being 
enlivened  by  the  change,  I  felt  a  lassitude  of  mind,  that 
put  me  out  of  humour  with  myself,  and  damped  that 
ardent  spirit  of  acquirement,  which  in  my  nature  seemed 
to  have  been  its  ruling  passion.' 

Soon  after  his  return  to  Cambridge,  Cumberland 
received  a  flattering  intimation  that  he  would  be  eligible 
for  his  fellowship  a  year  earlier  than  he  had  anticipated. 
While  sick  with  apprehension  at  competing  before  the 
deepest  mathematician  in  England,  then  master  of 
Trinity  College,  his  anxiety  suddenly  vanished  before  a 
greater  problem.  This  was  the  offer  of  a  position  as 
private  secretary  to  Lord  Halifax.  To  all  but  the 
diffident  young  man  this  opportunity  seemed  a  call  to 
success.  A  refusal  was  unthinkable.  But  the  prize 


COLLEGE  AND  POLITICAL  VENTURES         25 

debater,  the  projector  of  the  Universal  History,  'with  a 
head  filled  with  Greek/  did  not  yearn  for  the  world  of 
men.  Self-centered  by  temperament,  he  was  averse  to 
the  complaisance  which  the  new  situation  demanded.  'I 
was,'  he  says,  'not  fitted  for  dependence;  my  nature  was 
repugnant  to  it;  I  was  most  unfortunately  formed  with 
feelings,  that  could  ill  endure  the  assumed  importance  of 
some,  or  submit  to  take  advantage  of  the  weakness  of 
others.'  For  a  short  time  he  halted  with  reluctant  feet 
at  the  cross-roads.  He  was  choosing,  although  he  did 
not  know  it,  between  Cumberland,  the  scholar,  and  'Cum- 
berland, the  dramatist.'  In  the  end  he  took  the  secre- 
taryship, probably  with  the  secret  thought  that  all  his 
bridges  were  not  burned.  He  could  still  be  a  candidate 
for  the  fellowship. 

At  this  time  Lord  Halifax  was  a  figure  of  force  and 
promise  in  England.  Possessed  of  an  engaging  person- 
ality, of  unusual  powers  of  scholarship,  and  of  a  clear 
insight  into  the  practical  affairs  of  men,  his  success  seemed 
assured.  Cumberland  recognized  these  qualities,  but 
admired  more,  perhaps,  his  knowledge  of  Horace.  He 
observes,  however,  that  the  Earl  had  an  hereditary  weak- 
ness for  Prior,  and  that  he  declaimed  from  this  poet  in 
the  manner  of  Quin — sins  almost  equal  to  the  writing  of 
Spenserian  stanzas!  Cumberland  saw  Halifax  in  the 
prime  of  his  career.  'In  the  Lord  of  the  house,'  he 
found  'a  man  regular  in  his  duties,  temperate  in  his  hab- 
its,' and  ruled  by  a  genuine  love  for  a  'Woman,  in  whom 
no  fault  or  even  foible  could  be  discovered,  mild,  pru- 
dent, unpretending.'  The  only  other  grown  member  of 
the  little  circle  was  His  Lordship's  tutor,  Doctor  Crane, 
'a  man  of  a  clear  head  and  a  cold  heart.' 

Cumberland's  life  became  a  series  of  impressions  of  the 


26  RICPIARD  CUMBERLAND 


great  world.  Since  his  actual  duties  to  his  patron  con- 
sisted in  copying  a  few  private  letters,  there  was  ample 
leisure  for  curious  observation.  The  empty  politeness  of 
the  nobility  puzzled  him,  though  he  could  not  help  admir- 
ing the  Earl's  pre-eminence  in  these  graces ;  and  the  ready 
tongues  of  the  hangers-on  filled  him  with  disgusted 
wonder:  'In  the  world,  which  I  now  belonged  to,  I  heard 
very  little,  except  now  and  then  a  quotation  from  Lord 
Halifax,  that  in  any  degree  interested  me;  there  were 
talkers,  however,  who  would  take  possession  of  a  subject 
as  a  highwayman  does  of  a  purse,  without  knowing  what 
it  contained,  or  caring  whom  it  belonged  to ;  many  of  these 
gentlemen  had  doubtless  found  that  ignorance  had  been 
no  obstacle  to  their  advancement,  and  now  they  seemed 
resolved  it  should  be  no  bar  to  their  assurance.  I  found 
there  was  a  polite  as  well  as  a  political  glossary,  which 
involved  mysteries  less  obscure  than  those,  which  are 
couched  under  the  hieroglyphics  of  Egypt.'  We  may 
believe  that  Cumberland's  political  vocabulary  was  light, 
for,  after  waiting  two  hours  for  an  audience  with  the 
Duke  of  Newcastle,  he  was  dismissed  in  two  minutes, 
while  His  Grace  washed  his  hands. 

The  sharpest  nettle  of  all  to  the  Cambridge  student 
was  John  Pownall.  Halifax  was  president  of  the  Board 
of  Trade,  and  John  Pownall,  the  brother  of  'Governor 
Pownall,'  was  then  secretary.  On  Cumberland's  arrival 
in  London,  Halifax  had  taken  lodgings  for  him  near 
Pownall's  in  Downing  Street.  The  'sub-secretary,'  to 
use  Cumberland's  own  contemptuous  term,  was  directed 
to  instruct  him  in  his  new  duties.  This  he  was  unable 
to  do  without  irritating  every  fibre  in  Cumberland's  body. 
Fifty  years  later  he  sneers  at  Pownall's  mimicry  of  Hali- 
fax: 'When  it  was  my  chance  to  dine  at  our  boarding- 


COLLEGE  AND  POLITICAL  VENTURES         27 

house  table  with  the  afore-mentioned  sub-secretary,  I 
contemplated  with  surprise  the  importance  of  his  air,  and 
the  dignity  that  seemed  attached  to  his  official  situation. 
The  good  woman  of  the  house,  who  was  at  once  our 
provider  and  our  president,  regularly  addressed  him  by 
the  name  of  statesman,  and  in  her  distribution  of  the 
joint  shewed  something  more  than  an  impartial  atten- 
tion to  his  plate.  If  he  knew  any  state-secrets,  I  will  do 
him  the  justice  to  say  that  he  never  disclosed  them;  and 
if  he  talked  with  ministers  and  great  nobles  as  he  talked 
of  them,  I  will  venture  to  say  he  was  extremely  familiar 
with  them.' 

The  family  of  Lord  Halifax  would  have  seemed  to 
many  an  asset  to  a  successful  career.  'How  many  young 
men  at  my  time  of  life,'  says  Cumberland,  'would  have 
embraced  this  situation  with  rapture!'  Yet  he  himself 
accepted  the  opportunity  indifferently  and,  when  the  time 
came,  relinquished  it  without  deep  regret. 

At  the  first  opportunity  Cumberland  hurried  to  Cam- 
bridge where  his  treasure  lay.  Among  his  rivals  for 
the  coveted  fellowship  were  Spencer  Madan,  later  Bishop 
of  Peterborough,  and  John  Higgs,  a  life-long  friend. 
Sterne's  Uncle  Toby  and  Trim  never  discussed  bastion 
and  counterscarp  so  hotly  as  does  Cumberland  the  tech- 
nique of  this  battle  between  master  and  candidate.  Once 
again  in  the  classroom  the  diffident  youth  becomes  Cum- 
berland, the  warrior,  armed  to  the  teeth  with  his  own 
Universal  History.  After  a  grilling  from  many  masters, 
for  a  final  ordeal,  Cumberland  was  directed  to  turn  into 
Latin  or  English  verse  a  confusing  array  of  Greek  sen- 
tences. The  place  assigned  for  this  task  chanced  to  be 
the  master's  lodge,  the  very  room  where  he  had  been 
born,  and  his  Latin  verse  contained  a  happy  admixture  of 


28  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

reminiscence.  On  the  next  day  he  was  awarded  the 
fellowship. 

'Having  staid,'  Cumberland  writes,  'as  long  in  college 
as  in  gratitude  and  propriety  I  conceived  it  right  to  stay, 
I  went  home  to  Stanwick,  and  from  thence  paid  my  duty 
in  a  short  visit  to  Lord  Halifax/  In  this  casual  record 
of  change  of  scene,  Cumberland's  ties  are  placed  in  their 
proper  order.  At  heart  he  longed  for  a  secluded  and 
studious  life  at  the  university,  and  there  is  evidence  that 
at  times  he  deeply  regretted  his  decision  in  favour  of  the 
political  world.  Even  now  a  return  to  Cambridge 
seemed  not  unlikely,  since  he  writes:  'This  was  certainly 
a  moment,  of  which  I  could  have  availed  myself  for 
returning  into  the  line  of  life,  which  I  had  stept  out  of, 
and  as  neither  now,  nor  in  any  day  of  my  long  attendance 
upon  Lord  Halifax,  there  ever  was  an  hour,  when  my 
father  would  not  have  lent  a  ready  ear  to  my  appeal,  the 
reasons,  that  prevailed  with  me  for  persisting,  were  not 
dictated  by  him.'  If  not  dictated,  they  were  probably 
inspired  by  Denison  Cumberland,  for  desire  to  exalt  the 
family  name  was  certainly  the  motive  behind  so  great  a 
sacrifice  of  inclination. 

The  mutual  devotion  of  the  family  and  Richard  defied 
separation.  Actually  he  never  left  Stanwick,  for,  through- 
out the  years  in  London,  a  constant  interchange  of  visits 
and  letters  persisted,  and  his  holidays  were  divided 
between  his  father's  home  and  that  of  the  kindly  Ambrose 
Isted  of  Ecton.9  About  1754  came  a  proof  of  paternal 
devotion.  With  the  sole  purpose  of  being  nearer  his 
son,  Archdeacon  Cumberland  changed  his  living  at  Stan- 
wick for  one  at  Fulham.  'Nothing,'  says  the  autobiog- 

9  Other  friends  in  the  neighborhood  were  the  Ekins  brothers,  and 
Richard  Reynolds.  Cumberland  was,  at  one  time,  in  love  with  Reynolds's 
sister.  See  Memoirs,  1.167-8. 


COLLEGE  AND  POLITICAL  VENTURES         29 

rapher,  'could  have  prevailed  with  my  father  for  leaving 
those,  whom  he  had  so  long  loved  and  cherished  as  his 
flock,  but  the  generous  motive  of  giving  me  an  asylum  in 
the  bosom  of  my  family.' 

Meanwhile  Cumberland's  portion  in  life  was  lonely 
study.  His  quiet  lodging  in  Mount  Street  bade  defiance 
to  the  whir  of  the  city,  and,  immured  by  books,  he  lived 
the  life  of  high  contemplation.  Writing  employed  his 
leisure  hours,  and  he  again  tried  his  hand  at  verse,  com- 
posing a  'Church-yard  Elegy,  written  on  St.  Mark's  eve.' 
'A  plaintive  ditty,'  he  rightly  calls  it,  and  it  has  little  sig- 
nificance except  as  the  author's  first  printed  composition. 
Much  time  was  spent  in  writing  an  epic  poem  based  on 
the  materials  of  the  History  of  India.  No  better  proof 
of  Cumberland's  lack  of  poetic  genius  can  be  found  than 
in  the  excerpts  from  this  poem,  contained  in  the 
Memoirs.™  His  time  for  creative  writing  had  not  yet 
come. 

Cumberland's  contact  with  the  fashionable  world  was 
not  all  unpleasant  or  unprofitable.  Lord  Halifax  gave 
him  little  to  do,  and  he  spent  many  hours  in  observing 
the  literary  and  political  gods  of  the  time.  The  Memoirs, 
consequently,  abounds  in  silhouettes  of  the  age.  None 

10  A  few  typical  lines  of  this  youthful  poem  are  subjoined.  The  excerpt 
celebrates  the  conquests  of  the  Portuguese: 

In  India  now 

From  th'  hither  Tropic  to  the  Southern  Cape 
Show'd  to  the  setting  sun  a  shore  of  blood: 
In  vain  her  monarchs  from  a  hundred  thrones 
Sounded  the  arbitrary  word  for  war; 
In  vain  whole  cataracts  of  dusky  slaves 
Pour'd  on  the  coast:  earth  trembled  with  the  weight; 
But  what  can  slaves?    What  can  the  nerveless  arm, 
Shrunk  by  that  soft  emasculating  clime, 
What  the  weak  dart  against  the  mailed  breast 
Of  Europe's  martial  son? 


30  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

is  more  clear-cut  than  the  description  of  that  extraordi- 
nary personage,  George  Bubb  Dodington.  The  eccentric 
Maecenas  was  then  at  the  height  of  his  picturesque  career. 
Bufo,  in  Pope's  Epistle  to  Dr.  Arbuthnot,  had  enhanced 
the  literary  associations  of  his  name,  and  he  had  been  the 
object  of  numerous  addresses  and  dedications — among 
others  Young's  Third  Satire,  Fielding's  Epistle  On  True 
Greatness,  and  Thomson's  Summer. 

La  Trappe,  one  of  the  eccentric's  many  abodes,  was 
at  Hammersmith,  a  scant  mile  from  Fulham,  and  Dod- 
ington had  called  courteously  at  the  parsonage.  Cum- 
berland was  not  slow  to  perceive  the  opportunity  of 
observing  at  close  range  this  unique  character,  and  fre- 
quently passed  the  curious  pebble  crest  which  marked  the 
entrance  to  La  Trappe.  Here  Cumberland  met  Glover, 
the  author  of  Leonidas,  and,  later,  Samuel  Foote  and 
Arthur  Murphy.  Since,  for  political  purposes,  Halifax 
was  exceedingly  desirous  of  linking  Dodington  by  every 
possible  chain,  he  eagerly  encouraged  Cumberland's  cul- 
tivation of  Dodington's  friendship,  and,  as  this  pro- 
gressed easily,  Cumberland  soon  made  one  of  parties  at 
the  Eastbury  mansion,  and  at  the  town  house  in  Pali- 
Mall.  The  rival  glories  of  the  places  dazzled  his  stu- 
dent eyes.  In  the  villa  were  'two  rows  of  antique  marble 
statues  ranged  in  a  gallery  floored  with  the  rarest  mar- 
bles, and  enriched  with  columns  of  granite  and  lapis 
lazuli;  his  saloon  was  hung  with  the  finest  Gobelin 
tapestry,  and  [Dodington]  slept  in  a  bed  encanopied  with 
peacocks'  feathers  in  the  style  of  Mrs.  Montague.'  The 
mansion  at  Eastbury  had  been  built  by  Vanbrugh,  after 
the  model  of  Blenheim,  but,  unfortunately,  the  rooms 
exhibited  'a  profusion  of  finery,  that  kept  no  terms  with 
simplicity,  and  not  always  with  elegance  or  harmony  of 


COLLEGE  AND  POLITICAL  VENTURES         31 

style.'  In  brief,  good  taste  was  lacking  in  all  of  Dod- 
ington's  furnishings.  'I  recollect,'  says  Cumberland,  'his 
saying  to  me  one  day  in  his  great  saloon  at  Eastbury,  that 
if  he  had  half  a  score  pictures  of  a  thousand  pounds 
apiece,  he  would  gladly  decorate  his  walls  with  them,  in 
place  of  which  I  am  sorry  to  say  he  had  stuck  up  immense 
patches  of  gilt  leather  shaped  into  bugle  horns  upon 
hangings  of  rich  crimson  velvet,  and  round  his  state  bed 
he  displayed  a  carpeting  of  gold  and  silver  embroidery, 
which  too  glaringly  betrayed  its  derivation  from  coat, 
waist  coat  and  breeches  by  the  testimony  of  pockets, 
button-holes  and  loops  with  other  equally  incontrover- 
tible witnesses,  sub-poena'd  from  the  tailor's  shopboard.' 

Dodington's  dress  compelled  attention:  'He  had  a 
wardrobe  loaded  with  rich  and  flaring  suits,  each  in 
itself  a  load  to  the  wearer.  .  .  .  His  bulk  and  corpulency 
gave  full  display  to  a  vast  expanse  and  profusion  of 
brocade  and  embroidery,  and  this,  when  set  off  with  an 
enormous  tye-perriwig  and  deep  laced  ruffles,  gave  the 
picture  of  an  ancient  courtier  in  his  gala  habit,  or  Quin 
in  his  stage  dress.' 

So  much  for  the  setting.  Cumberland's  picture  of  the 
man  himself  has  the  touch  of  the  master.  Surrounded 
by  a  motley  group  of  outworn  wits,  Dodington  'made 
music  of  them  all.'  Cumberland  remarks  upon  the 
exceeding  quickness  and  vividness  of  his  mind,  his  syco- 
phancy towards  Walpole,  Chesterfield,  and  Fox,  and 
his  daring  mockery  of  William  Beckford.11  It  is  easy  to 
imagine  the  over-confident  alderman  writhing  under  well- 

11  Walpole,  however,  boasted  that  he  'got  £5000  from  [Dodington] 
which  he  will  never  see  again.'  Chesterfield  ousted  him  from  the  favour 
of  the  Prince  of  Wales;  and  Dodington  was  subordinate  to  Fox  as 
treasurer  of  the  navy.  'Alderman  Beckford,'  as  Cumberland  calls  him, 
became  Lord  Mayor  of  London  on  October  29,  1762. 


32  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

placed  shots,  and  'Dodington  lolling  in  his  chair  in  per- 
fect apathy  and  self-command,  dosing  and  even  snoring 
at  intervals  in  his  lethargic  way,'  and  breaking  out 
'every  now  and  then  into  such  gleams  and  flashes  of  wit 
and  irony,  as  by  the  contrast  of  his  phlegm  with  the 
other's  impetuosity,  made  his  humour  irresistible,  and 
set  the  table  in  a  roar.'  Though  Cumberland  says  that 
Dodington  had  a  serious  side,  and  tells  us  that  he  was 
never  'flippant  upon  sacred  subjects,'  nor  cared  for  'the 
trivial  amusement  of  cards,'  posterity  is  apt  to  smile 
doubtfully.  We  prefer  to  think  of  him  reading  Jonathan 
Wild  to  the  Ladies  Stafford  and  Hervey,  or  acting  the 
whimsical  role  of  Cleopatra's  clown. 

Cumberland  is  seemingly  overlooked  by  Dodington  in 
the  famous  Diary,  and  Lord  Melcombe's  opinion  of  him 
must  remain  unknown.  Cumberland  was,  however,  inti- 
mate enough  to  express  frankly  his  disapproval  of  the 
Diary.  'I  was,'  he  says,  'acquainted  with  his  diary,  which 
since  his  death  has  been  published,  and  I  well  remember 
the  temporary  disgust  he  seemed  to  take,  when  upon  his 
asking  what  I  would  do  with  it,  should  he  bequeath  it  to 
my  discretion,  I  instantly  replied,  "that  I  would  destroy 
it."  Some  political  verses  by  the  young  man,  eulogistic 
of  Lord  Halifax,  were  read  aloud  one  evening  by  Dod- 
ington. 'I  was  not  present,'  says  their  author,  'as  may 
well  be  conceived,  at  this  reading,  but  I  confess  I  sate 
listening  in  the  next  room,  and  was  not  a  little  gratified 
by  what  I  overheard.'  Cumberland's  part,  as  a  friend  of 
Lord  Halifax,  must  have  been  the  privileged  observer's. 

On  his  twenty-seventh  birthday  Cumberland  was  mar- 
ried to  Miss  Elizabeth  Ridge,12  the  daughter  of  George 

12  For  impressions  of  Mrs.  Cumberland  see  Private  Correspondence  of 
David  Garrick,  1.425,  Mudford,  Life  of  Cumberland,  580-81 ;  Diary  and 


COLLEGE  AND  POLITICAL  VENTURES         33 

Ridge,13  of  Kilmiston.  The  two  families  thus  joined  were 
distantly  related,  and  for  many  years  had  lived  on  terms 
of  intimacy.  The  first  London  home  of  the  couple  was 
in  Duke  Street,  Westminster.  Little  information  con- 
cerning Mrs.  Cumberland  is  obtainable  either  through  her 
husband's  Memoirs,  or  through  other  sources.  This  was 
a  happy  marriage. 

With  the  accession  of  George  the  Third  in  1760  and 
the  rise  of  Bute,  Halifax  was  chosen  Lord-Lieutenant  of 
Ireland.  William  Gerard  Hamilton  was  chief  secre- 
tary, and  Cumberland  was  made  Ulster  secretary.  Hali- 
fax began  his  duties  in  Ireland  in  October,  1761,  and 
Cumberland  attended  him  in  his  new  capacity. 

Cumberland  was  now  at  the  outset  of  broadening 
years.  Suddenly  thrown  into  the  very  midst  of  Dub- 
lin's political  and  social  life,  he  eagerly  watched  each 
great  figure.  Here  he  caught  his  first  glimpse  of  Edmund 
Burke,  who  'had  .  .  .  his  fortune  to  make,'  but  who  'was 
not  disposed  to  make  it  by  any  means  but  such  as  per- 
fectly accorded  with  his  feelings  and  his  honour.'  Here 
Cumberland  saw  'Single-speech  Hamilton,'  the  'inde- 
fatigable, meditative,  mysterious';  and  here  his  amazed 
eyes  beheld  Clement's  'Parisian  luxury'  set  down  in  the 
very  hodge-podge  of  Dublin  society.  Before  Primate 
Stone  he  stood  abashed.  This  was  a  strong  man,  one 
'formed  to  hold  command  over  turbulent  spirits  in  tem- 
pestuous seasons.'  Yet  he  found  him  a  leader  'in  every 

Letters  of  Fanny  Burney,  Dobson  ed.,  1.282,  286,  288,  289;  The  Cumber- 
land Letters,  160. 

13  George  Ridge  was  hated  cordially  by  Dr.  J.  Hoadley,  the  friend 
of  Garrick.  In  letters  to  Garrick  on  May  22  and  28,  1772,  Doctor  Hoad- 
ley relates  the  misdemeanors  of  Mr.  Ridge.  But  'let,'  he  says,  'my 
scandal  fall  upon  the  right  horse,  and  the  good  Cumberlands  live  in 
peace  and  reputation,  and  go  on  to  divert  and  improve  the  world.' 
Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.466,  470. 


34  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

character  seen  to  more  advantage  than  in  that,  which 
according  to  his  sacred  function  should  have  been  his 
chief  and  only  object  to  sustain.'  Cumberland  frequented 
the  taverns,  the  theatres,  and  the  houses  of  the  great. 
He  saw  the  'graceful,  genteel  and  spirited'  Barry,14  then 
Mrs.  Dancer  at  the  Crow-Street  Theatre,  and  discovered 
that  'the  spirit  of  conviviality  was  by  no  means  excluded 
from  the  pale  of  the  church  of  Ireland.' 

The  personality  of  George  Faulkner15  sank  deep  into 
Cumberland's  memory.  'The  prince  of  Dublin  printers/ 
and  the  prince  of  good  livers  was  then  over  sixty,  but 
at  the  very  top  of  his  powers  of  wit  and  digestion.  Since 
even  the  mimicry  of  Foote  inadequately  portrayed  Faulk- 
ner, the  pen  of  Cumberland  can  hardly  do  justice  to  his 
'perfect  buffoonery.'  'I  sate  at  his  table,'  says  the  latter, 
'from  dinner  till  two  in  the  morning,  whilst  George 
swallowed  immense  potations  with  one  solitary  sodden 
strawberry  at  the  bottom  of  the  glass,  which  he  said  was 
recommended  to  him  by  his  doctor  for  its  cooling  prop- 
erties.' Laughter  shook  the  company  while  Faulkner 
poured  forth  story  after  story  of  Dean  Swift,  or  swore 
to  the  beauty  of  Mrs.  Faulkner,  who  was,  in  reality,  a 
paragon  of  ugliness.  Battles  of  lying  between  Foote 
and  Faulkner  were  not  infrequent.  'The  host,'  writes 
Cumberland,  'took  credit  to  himself  for  a  few  deviations 
in  point  of  gallantry,  and  asserted  that  he  broke  his 
leg  in  flying  from  the  fury  of  an  enraged  husband,  whilst 
Foote  constantly  maintained  that  he  fell  down  an  area 
with  a  tray  of  meat  upon  his  shoulder,  when  he  was 

14  Mrs.  Barry  was  considered  'the  equal  of  Mrs.  Wotfmgton  and  Mrs. 
Cibber  in  tragedy,   and  to  have  surpassed  both  in  comedy.'     She   later 
acted  the  role  of  Evanthe  in  Cumberland's  Timon  of  Athens. 

15  George  Faulkner  pirated  Cumberland's  first  printed  play,  The  Ban- 
ishment of  Cicero.    See  Mudford,  Life  of  Cumberland,  132. 


COLLEGE  AND  POLITICAL  VENTURES         35 

journeyman  to  a  butler.'  Cumberland  says  that  when  an 
alderman  he  grew  serious  and  sentimental,  but  such  a 
charge  seems  too  gross  for  one  who  died  some  ten  years 
later  of  overeating. 

Cumberland's  credit  with  Halifax  had  increased  yearly. 
This  nobleman,  though  markedly  able,  lacked  moral 
depth.  The  death,  in  1753,  of  his  wife,  whom  he  sin- 
cerely loved,  plunged  him  into  passionate  grief,  but 
enlarged  his  bent  for  free  living,  and  he  is  written  today 
as  one  whose  life  was  clouded  by  his  own  folly.  At  the 
time  of  the  departure  for  Ireland,  Cumberland  had 
entire  charge  of  the  Lord-Lieutenant's  finances,  and  was, 
to  some  degree,  in  his  private  counsels.  He  beheld  the 
brilliance  of  his  beginning  in  Ireland,  his  high-minded 
giving,  and  at  last,  his  farewell.  'The  shore  was 
thronged  with  crowds  of  people,  that  followed  him  to 
the  water's  edge,  and  the  sea  was  in  a  manner  covered 
with  boats  and  vessels,  that  accompanied  the  yacht 
through  the  bay,  studious  to  pay  to  their  popular  chief 
governor  every  valedictory  honour,  that  their  zeal  and 
attention  could  devise.' 

Cumberland's  uprightness  kept  off  all  except  clean 
wages,  so  that  his  welfare  hung  upon  the  mood  of  his 
patron.  Since  his  family  was  now  increased,  he  was 
strongly  in  need  of  a  substantial  reward  for  the  ten  years' 
service,  and  his  surprise  overcame  his  pleasure  when 
Halifax  suddenly  named  a  baronetcy.  'A  mere  mouth- 
ful of  moonshine,'  said  Ambrose  Isted  contemptuously. 
This  'gaudy  and  insubstantial'  offer  Cumberland,  after 
due  thought,  refused.  Whatever  the  reason  for  it,  the 
refusal  was  a  mistake.  Cumberland's  regrets  were  quick, 
.and  are  not  quite  honest  enough  to  make  pleasant  read- 
ing: 'I  signified  to  Lord  Halifax,'  he  says,  'my  wish  to 


36  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

decline  the  honour  he  had  been  pleased  to  offer  me :  I 
certainly  did  not  make  my  court  to  him  by  this  refusal, 
and  vanity,  if  I  had  listened  to  it,  would  in  this  instance 
have  taught  me  better  policy,  but  to  err  on  the  side  of 
moderation  and  humility  is  an  error,  that  ought  not  to 
be  repented  of.' 

Although  the  inner  cause  is  a  mystery,  from  this  time 
Cumberland's  hold  upon  Halifax  weakened.  There  are 
possibilities  of  which  the  autobiographer  does  not  speak. 
To  the  noble  lord  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders  might  seem 
fair  treatment  for  a  man  who  spurned  a  baronetcy. 
Perhaps  Halifax  was  weary  of  Richard  Cumberland. 
But  a  sounder  judgment  lets  us  think  that  Cumberland's 
angry  innuendoes  were  founded  on  truth.  'In  fact,'  he 
says,  'I  plainly  saw  it  was  not  for  me  to  expect  any  lasting 
tenure  in  the  share  I  then  possessed  of  favour,  unless 
I  kept  it  up  by  sacrifices  I  was  determined  not  to  make; 
in  short  I  had  not  that  worldly  wisdom,  which  could  pre- 
vail with  me  to  pay  my  homage  in  that  quarter,  from 
which  my  patron  derived  his  ruin,  and  purchase  by  dis- 
graceful attentions  a  continuance  of  that  claim  to  his  pro- 
tection and  regard,  which  I  had  earned  by  long  and  faith- 
ful services  for  ten  years  past.' 

Halifax's  passion  for  Mary  Anne  Faulkner16  had, 
indeed,  taken  leave  of  all  shame.  Her  reputation  as  a 
placemonger  was  notorious,  and  Cumberland  may  easily 
have  been  blacklisted  to  make  room  for  a  favourite. 
Whether  this  lady,  or  Halifax  himself,  was  the  author 

16  Mary  Anne  Faulkner  was  the  niece  of  George  Faulkner,  the  Dublin 
printer.  A  singer  at  Drury  Lane,  she  became  governess  for  Halifax's 
daughter,  and  later  his  mistress.  On  her  account  he  broke  off  a  marriage 
with  the  heiress  of  Sir  Thomas  Drury  of  Northamptonshire,  an  incident 
which  caused  the  story  that  'the  hundreds  of  Drury  have  got  the  better 
of  the  thousands  of  Drury.' 


COLLEGE  AND  POLITICAL  VENTURES         37 

of  the  discord,  it  became  a  certainty  that  this  period  of 
Cumberland's  life  was  drawing  to  a  close.  Halifax's 
last  act  of  kindness  to  the  family  was  the  promotion  of 
Denison  Cumberland  to  the  bishopric  of  Clonfert.  The 
Lord's  appointment  to  the  office  of  Secretary  of  State 
took  place  in  October,  1762,  and  the  blow  fell  in  the 
appointment  to  the  secretaryship  of  a  Mr.  Sedgewicke, 
a  gentlemen  who  had  been  his  Master  of  Horse  in  Ire- 
land, and  subordinate  to  Cumberland.  In  the  story  of 
his  first  failure,  Cumberland's  pride  winces:  'I  could 
not,'  he  says,  'be  said  to  suffer  any  disappointment  on  the 
occasion  of  this  gentleman's  promotion.'  Common  sense, 
however,  tells  his  reader  that  the  end  of  his  political 
career  was  passing  bitter  to  him.  For  it  was  always 
Cumberland's  hapless  fate  to  lay  bare  a  wound,  when 
seeking  with  fumbling  fingers  to  conceal  it.  'He  was,' 
the  first  secretary  writes  with  ignoble  warmth  concerning 
Sedgewicke,  'a  civil,  mannerly,  and,  as  far  as  suited  him, 
an  obsequious  little  gentleman;  fond  of  business,  and 
very  busy  in  it,  be  it  what  it  might.  .  .  .  He  well  knew 
how  to  follow  up  preferment  to  its  source,  and  though 
the  waters  of  that  spring  were  not  very  pure,  he  drank 
devoutly  at  the  fountain  head,  and  was  rewarded  for  his 
perseverance.' 

Halifax's  curt  rebuff  left  Cumberland  in  bad  straits. 
'After  above  eleven  years  attendance,'  he  declares,  with 
some  show  of  grief,  'my  profit  was  the  sole  attainment  of 
a  place  of  two  hundred  pounds  per  annum,  my  loss  was 
that  of  the  expence  I  had  put  my  father  to  for  my  sup- 
port and  maintenance  in  a  style  of  life  very  different 
from  that  in  which  I  was  found.'  Need  brought  him 
to  take  the  humiliating  step  of  applying  for  Sedgewicke's 
former  place  of  Master  of  Horse.  It  was  refused.  At 


38  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

last,  he  got  from  the  Earl  of  Hillsborough  a  secretary- 
ship which  gave  him  nominal  employment.  Such  was  the 
price  of  a  wrong  step  in  the  political  world. 

An  excellent  picture  in  verse  of  Cumberland's  opinion 
of  Lord  Halifax  may  be  found  in  Retrospection,  pub- 
lished towards  the  end  of  the  dramatist's  life: 

When  in  a  luckless  hour  I  threw  aside 
My  college  gown,  and  Halifax  was  pleas'd 
To  call  me  to  his  confidence,  methought 
Form  more  engaging  never  grac'd  a  court 
Aspiring  elegant,  with  genius  fraught, 


A  patron  better  fitted  to  attract 
My  admiration  than  engage  my  love: 

*  *         * 

Meanwhile  of  this  sage  minister  I  saw 

As  much  as  my  humility  desir'd 

And  knew  as  much  as  small  men  know  of  great. 

*  *         # 

If  more  I  were  to  tell,  'twould  only  prove 
The  sun  that  rises  clear  may  set  in  clouds. 


CHAPTER  III 
EARLY  DRAMATIC  EFFORTS 

parting  from  Halifax,  in  1762,  marks  the  begin- 
-*•  ning  of  a  new  life  for  Richard  Cumberland.  The 
role  of  a  political  dependant  was  past;  he  was  to  become 
a  writer  of  plays.  A  logical  date  for  the  beginning  of 
Cumberland's  dramatic  career  is  1761.  In  this  year  was 
published  at  Charing  Cross,  at  the  press  of  Mr.  J.  Walter 
The  Banishment  of  Cicero,  a  classical  tragedy. 

The  tragedy  deals  with  the  conspiracy  of  Clodius, 
Piso,  and  Gabinius  against  Cicero,  and  with  the  latter's 
escape  from  his  enemies.  An  unwieldy  underplot  is  con- 
cerned with  the  guilty  love  of  Clodia,  and  the  mutual 
devotion  of  Tullia  and  Frugi. 

Cumberland's  interest  in  Tully's  life  as  a  subject  for 
the  drama  had  been  awakened  by  a  reading  of  Middle- 
ton's  Life  of  Cicero,  then  newly  published.  That  Cum- 
berland recognized  the  limitations  of  his  play  is  clear, 
for  he  says:  'As  the  hero  of  a  drama  I  was  not  happy 
in  my  choice  of  Cicero,  and  banishment  is  a  tame  inci- 
dent to  depend  upon  for  the  interest  and  catastrophe  of 
a  tragic  plot.'  But  even  a  classical  tragedy  was  a  begin- 
ning in  dramatic  composition,  and  the  play  occasioned 
Cumberland's  first  meeting  with  David  Garrick. 

For  Lord  Halifax,  who  had  read  The  Banishment  of 
Cicero,  determined  to  secure  Garrick's  judgment  upon 
the  tragedy.  He  accordingly  introduced  his  protege  to 
Garrick,  who  was  then  at  Hampton,  and  left  the  manu- 
script for  the  actor's  inspection.  Cumberland's  hopes 


40  RICH4RD  CUMBERLAND 

of  a  favourable  reply  were  not  high.  Garrick  took  the 
play,  he  says,  'with  all  possible  respect  and  promised  an 
attentive  perusal,  but  those  tell-tale  features,  so  miracu- 
lously gifted  in  the  art  of  assumed  emotions,  could  not 
mask  their  real  ones,  and  I  predicted  to  Lord  Halifax, 
as  we  returned  to  the  lodge,  that  I  had  no  expectation  of 
my  play  being  accepted.'  The  author's  misgivings  were 
well  founded,  and  the  play  was  never  staged.  Garrick 
'returned  the  manuscript  to  Lord  Halifax  with  many 
apologies  to  his  Lordship,  and  some  few  gratifying  words 
to  its  author.' 

Dibdin,  after  condemning  certain  offensive  scenes  in 
the  play,  confirms  Garrick's  judgment:  'It  was,  in  fact, 
though  strongly  written  in  many  parts,  evidently  an 
inexperienced  production,  and  therefore,  the  manager,  in 
refusing  it,  did  his  duty  by  the  public.'1  Biographia 
Dramatica,  reviewing  the  play  at  length,  finds  the 
unpleasant  scenes  'too  vicious  and  shocking  to  come  within 
the  decent  clothing  of  the  tragic  muse.'2  The  character 
of  Clodius  is  regarded  as  indefensible  and  fictitious;  the 
expectations  of  the  reader  are  misled;  Cicero  himself  is 
too  faintly  sketched;  and  the  catastrophe  is  brought  on 
with  too  little  preparation.  Cumberland  sought  com- 
fort in  a  letter  from  Bishop  Warburton.  'Let  me  thank 
you,'  wrote  the  prelate,  'for  the  sight  of  a  very  fine 
Dramatic  Poem.  It  is,'  said  this  eulogist,  'much  too  good 
for  a  prostitute  stage.' 

The  rejection  of  The  Banishment  of  Cicero  brought 
Cumberland  to  his  senses.  When  the  arbiter  of  public 
taste,  Garrick,  so  openly  'stated  his  despair  of  accommo- 
dating a  play  on  such  a  plan  to  the  purposes  of  the  stage,' 

1  A  Complete  History  of  the  Stage,  5.285-6.    Dibdin  gives  1761  as  the 
date  of  composition  of  the  play. 

2  Biographia  Dramatica,  3.47.    See  also  Genest,  8.390. 


EARLY  DRAMATIC  EFFORTS  41 

so  ambitious  a  man  as  Cumberland  could  only  change 
his  manner  of  writing.  Setting  his  ideals  behind  him  he 
turned  to  musical  comedy.  In  1765  appeared  the  hastily 
written  Summer's  Tale.  This  play  carried  in  its  wake 
a  quarrel  with  Isaac  Bickerstaff,  the  first  in  Cumber- 
land's life  of  dramatic  squalls.  Bickerstaff's  musical 
comedies  had  been  carrying  London  by  storm.  Between 
1759  and  1771  he  had  offered  no  less  than  a  score  of 
pieces,  of  which  his  Love  in  a  Village,  acted  in  1762, 
and  Maid  of  the  Mill,  of  1765,  had  been  notable  suc- 
cesses. Mrs.  Inchbald  considered  his  genius,  in  this  field, 
second  only  to  Gay's.  If  Cumberland  did  not  imitate,  he 
was,  at  least,  strongly  influenced  by  Bickerstaff,  and  the 
latter  loudly  accused  him  of  plagiarism.  If  Cumberland 
was  stealing,  it  was  from  a  thief.  The  Whitehall  Even- 
ing Post  of  January  7,  1772,  refers  to  'the  ingenious  Mr. 
Bickerstaff,  who  with  respect  to  an  Air  or  an  Opera,  is 
as  good  a  plagiarist  as  any  of  his  Majesty's  domains/ 
Bickerstaff  resented  The  Summer's  Tale  as  an  intrusion 
upon  his  province,  and  Cumberland  says  that  he  'set  all 
engines  of  abuse  to  work  upon  me  and  my  poor  drama, 
whilst  it  was  yet  in  rehearsal,  not  repressing  his  acrimony 
till  it  had  been  before  the  public.'  Cumberland  wrote  a 
letter  of  remonstrance  to  his  tormentor,  who  afterwards 
confessed  to  Garrick  the  injustice  of  his  attack. 

But  Cumberland  had  various  friends  in  the  musical 
world,  who  tendered  him  valuable  assistance.  Karl 
Friedrich  Abel,  the  celebrated  player  on  the  viola  da 
gamba  and  composer  of  instrumental  music,  wrote  the 
overture  for  the  piece.  Thomas  Augustine  Arne,  the 
regular  writer  of  light  music  for  the  London  theatres, 
and  Samuel  Arnold,  the  musician  of  Covent  Garden, 
also  lent  support;  and  Johann  Sebastian  Bach,  who  had 


42  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

come  to  England  in  1762,  and  had  been  appointed  Music 
Master  to  the  Royal  Family,  is  possibly  the  Bach  men- 
tioned by  Cumberland  as  another  composer  eager  to  lift 
the  piece  to  the  pinnacle  of  operatic  glory.  Under  such 
influences  The  Summer's  Tale  became,  as  Cumberland 
himself  said,  Fox  et  praeterea  nihil. 

'I  sate  down/  says  Cumberland,  '.  .  .  and  soon  pro- 
duced a  thing  in  three  acts,  which  I  named  the  Summer's 
Tale.'  The  author  emphasizes  his  carelessness  in  com- 
position, and  says:  'My  friends' — Abel,  Bach,  Doctor 
Arne,  and  Arnold — 'who  were  critics  merely  in  music, 
took  as  little  concern  about  revising  the  drama,  as  I  took 
pains  in  writing  it;  they  brought  me  the  music  of  old 
songs,  and  I  adapted  words  to  it,  and  wove  them  into 
the  piece,  as  I  could/  The  Summer's  Tale  was  acted  on 
December  6,  1765,  at  Covent  Garden.  'A  Musical 
Comedy  in  3  acts,'  to  use  Genest's  phrase,  'it  was  per- 
formed without  much  applause,  except  what  the  vocal 
performers  obtained.'8  Biographia  Dramatica  remarks 
upon  its  cold  reception,  in  spite  of  its  run  of  nine  nights,4 
and  Dibdin,  declaring  it  'too  heavy  for  a  comic  opera,' 
says  its  music  is  'in  general  dull  and  ill-chosen.'5  But  The 
London  Review  for  December  considers  Cumberland's 
lyrics  of  more  poetical  merit  'than  any  .  .  .  since  the 
opera  of  the  Capricious  Lovers'*  a  piece  by  Robert 
Lloyd.  The  final  verdict  may  be  that  The  Summer's 
Tale,  in  spite  of  excellent  musicians  and  actors,  failed 
because  Cumberland  totally  lacked  ability  for  this  species 
of  dramatic  composition. 

3  Genest,  5.104. 

4  Biographia  Dramatica,  4.307. 

5  A  Complete  History  of  the  Stage,  5.286. 

6  The  Capricious  Lovers,  a  comic  opera  by  Robert  Lloyd,  was  acted  at 
Drury  Lane  Theatre  in  1784;  it  had  a  run  of  nine  nights. 


EARLY  DRAMATIC  EFFORTS  43 

The  reader  of  The  Summer's  Tale  is  at  a  loss  to 
explain  Bickerstaff's  uneasiness,  and  Cumberland's  prom- 
ise to  him  to  write  no  more  musical  comedies  seems  a 
needless  assurance.  The  author  of  Love  in  a  Village  had 
nothing  to  fear  from  The  Summer's  Tale. 

Cumberland  did  not  yet  understand  the  nature  of  his 
own  powers.  He  believed  that  musical  comedy  pointed 
the  way  to  popularity,  and  was  loth  to  give  it  up.  He 
tried,  accordingly,  to  keep  The  Summer's  Tale  before  an 
audience.  On  April  12,  1768,  there  appeared  at  Covent 
Garden,  Amelia,  a  curtailed  form  of  the  earlier  comedy, 
and  containing  its  central  episode.  'Before,'  says  Cum- 
berland, 'I  had  ushered  my  melodious  nonsense  to  the  audi- 
ence, I  had  clearly  discovered  the  weakness  of  the  tame 
and  lifeless  fable  on  which  I  had  founded  it.'  Accord- 
ingly, in  revision,  he  selected  the  scenes  between  Henry 
and  Amelia  which  were  'tolerably  conceived,'  and  con- 
structed 'an  after-piece  of  two  acts.'  'Cut  down  to  a 
farce,  ...  it  did  as  little  in  that  form  as  at  first,'7 
declares  Dibdin,  but  Cumberland  claims  moderate  suc- 
cess for  it,  and,  in  Genest's  opinion,  'it  was  acted  with  very 
tolerable  success.'8 

The  importance  of  The  Summer's  Tale  and  Amelia  in 
a  study  of  Cumberland,  lies,  as  Walter  Scott  has  pointed 
out,  in  its  effect  upon  the  dramatist  himself.9  It  repre- 
sents a  step  nearer  sentimental  comedy.  Only  through 
the  influence  of  musical  comedy  did  Cumberland  become 
an  apostle  of  'legitimate  drama.' 

7  A  Complete  History  of  the  Stage,  5.286. 

8  Genest,  5.104. 

9  Novels    of   Siuift,    Bage    and    Cumberland.      'Prefatory    Memoir   to 
Richard  Cumberland,'  40. 


CHAPTER  IV 
GARRICK.— THE  BROTHERS 

/CUMBERLAND  was  disappointed,  but  far  from 
^^  discouraged  by  the  failure  of  his  musical  pieces. 
From  the  year  1761  we  may  think  of  him  as  busied  con- 
stantly with  the  drama.  Returning  one  day  from  a 
rehearsal  of  The  Summer's  Tale,  he  fell  in  with  an  old 
friend,  none  other  than  'Gentleman  Smith'  of  Covent 
Garden.  Smith,  whom  Churchill  epitomized  in  the  Ros- 
clad  as  'the  genteel,  the  airy,  and  the  smart/  was  a  pictur- 
esque character  of  the  London  playhouses,  and  an  oracle 
of  theatrical  wisdom.  Even  then  his  Charles  Surface  was 
greatly  admired,  and  his  Kitely  was  thought  superior  to 
Garrick's.  'He  had,'  says  Cumberland  in  retrospect, 
'the  kindness  to  remonstrate  with  me  upon  the  business  I 
was  engaged  in,  politely  saying,  that  I  ought  to  turn  my 
talents  to  compositions  of  a  more  independent  and  a 
higher  character;  predicting  to  me,  that  I  should  reap 
neither  fame  nor  satisfaction  in  the  operatic  department, 
and  demanding  of  me,  in  a  tone  of  encouragement,  why 
I  would  not  rather  aim  at  writing  a  good  comedy,  than 
dabbling  in  those  sing-song  pieces.'  Cumberland  was 
quick  to  see  light  ahead,  and  Smith's  advice  found  an 
immediate  response :  'The  animating  spirit  of  this  friendly 
remonstrance,  and  the  full  persuasion  that  he  had  pre- 
dicted truly  of  the  character  and  consequences  of  my 
undertaking  then  on  foot,  made  a  sensible  impression  on 
my  mind,  and  in  the  warmth  of  the  moment  I  formed 


GARRICK.—THE  BROTHERS  45 

my  resolution  to  attempt  the  arduous  project  he  had 
pointed  out.' 

The  resolution  took  its  first  dramatic  form  not  in  a 
comedy  but  in  an  adaptation  of  a  Shakesperian  tragedy. 
Although  Cumberland's  version  of  Timon  of  Athens  was 
not  acted  until  1771,  it  was  written  three  years  earlier. 
Its  purpose  was  to  conquer  David  Garrick.  He  accord- 
ingly wrote  the  dictator  telling  him  that  the  tragedy  had 
been  unjustly  rejected  by  George  Colman,  and  begged  him 
to  acept  it. 

Garrick's  perfunctory  politeness  in  return  recalls  his 
treatment  of  The  Banishment  of  Cicero.  His  letter  is 
dated  February  5,  1768,  and  runs  in  part:  'I  have  read 
"Timon"  over  very  carefully,  and  think  that  the  altera- 
tions have  great  merit  in  the  writing  part,  but  as  they 
do  not  add  greatly  to  the  pathos  of  the  play,  and  break 
into  its  simplicity,  I  really  believe  that  the  lovers  of 
Shakspeare  would  condemn  us  for  not  giving  them 
Timon  as  it  stands  in  the  original.'1  Cumberland,  in  his 
reply,  does  not  conceal  his  disappointment,  nor  his  sense 
of  the  absurdity  of  Garrick's  pretext,  'simplicity.'  'I 
shall  be  glad,'  he  says  angrily,  'to  see  the  time  when 
simplicity  is  a  recommendation  to  any  dramatic  piece. 
It  was  in  conformity  to  the  depravity  of  modern  taste 
that  I  altered  Shakspeare;  and  I  conceived  that,  when  I 
robbed  him  of  the  beauties  of  his  native  simplicity  I  made 
him  less  venerable  indeed,  but  more  suitably  equipped  for 
the  company  he  was  to  keep.  I  hope,'  he  finishes  ironi- 
cally, 'your  ideas  are  better  founded  than  mine.'2 

But  on  March  21,  1768,  Garrick  has  another  letter 
from  the  persistent  playwright.  Cumberland  now  offers 
a  comedy,  'both  in  plot  and  execution,  entirely  new  and 

1  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.284. 

2  Ibid.,  1.284-5. 


46  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

original.'  Of  Garrick's  reply  we  know  only  that  it  was 
negative.  The  new  comedy  must  have  been  The  Broth- 
ers, later  accepted  and  staged  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre. 
'It  was  written,'  says  the  author,  'after  my  desultory 
manner,  at  such  short  periods  of  time  and  leisure,  as  I 
could  snatch  from  business  or  the  society  of  my  family, 
and  sometimes  even  in  the  midst  of  both,  for  I  could 
then  form  whole  scenes  in  my  memory,  and  afterwards 
write  them  down,  when  opportunity  offered;  neither  was 
it  any  interruption,  if  my  children  were  playing  about  me 
in  the  room.' 

The  Brothers  was  acted  on  December  2,  1769.  It  was 
a  fortunate  evening  for  Cumberland,  and  may  well  be 
regarded  as  the  beginning  of  his  dramatic  success.  Gar- 
rick  himself  was  an  interested  witness  of  the  play,  and 
Cumberland,  'planted  in  the  back  seat  of  an  upper  box 
opposite  to  where  he  sate,'  anxiously  watched  for  the  out- 
come of  a  more  subtle  assault  upon  the  actor's  regard. 
At  the  close  of  the  play  Mrs.  Yates3  advanced  to  pro- 
nounce the  epilogue.  Suddenly  the  actress  paused  at  the 
lines: 

Who  but  hath  seen  the  celebrated  strife 
Where  Reynolds  calls  the  canvas  into  life, 
And  'twixt  the  tragic  and  the  comic  muse, 
Courted  of  both,  and  dubious  where  to  chuse, 
Th'  immortal  actor  stands — ?4 

Cumberland's  hopes  and  fears  may  be  imagined.  His 
eyes  were  fixed  on  Garrick.  But  the  'immortal  actor's' 

3  Mrs.  Yates  had  established  her  fame  by  her  performance  of  Mon- 
dane  in  Arthur  Murphy's  tragedy,  The  Orphan  of  China,  acted  at  Drury 
Lane  April  21,  1759. 

4  Sir   Joshua   Reynolds's    portrait   of    Garrick   between    the    muses    of 
tragedy  and  comedy.     The  picture  brought  three  hundred  guineas  at  the 
Exhibition  of  1762,  in  Spring  Gardens.     Northcote  has  a  fine  description 
of  the  colouring. 


GARRICK.— THE  BROTHERS  47 

pleasure  was  unmistakable.  Fitzherbert,5  who  had  been 
sitting  with  Garrick,  came  across  the  theatre  to  tell 
Cumberland  that  Garrick  'had  been  taken  by  surprise, 
but  was  not  displeased  with  the  unexpected  compliment 
from  an  author,  with  whom  he  had  supposed  he  did  not 
stand  upon  the  best  terms;  alluding  no  doubt  to  his 
transaction  with  Lord  Halifax  respecting  The  Banish- 
ment of  Cicero.'  Cumberland's  object  was  attained. 

The  friendship  between  Garrick  and  himself,  begun  so 
dramatically,  continued  until  the  actor's  death.  What 
Cumberland's  manuscript  plays  had  failed  to  accomplish 
was  achieved  by  a  clever  epilogue.  Garrick's  sensibility 
to  skilful  flattery  was  a  large  element  in  his  recognition 
of  the  new  dramatist,  but  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that 
The  Brothers  was  successful,  and  the  author  of  a  suc- 
cessful comedy  could  not  be  ignored,  even  by  Garrick. 
Cumberland's  delight  in  his  new  friend  is  plain  in  the 
Memoirs:  'From  this  time,'  he  says  complacently,  'Mr. 
Garrick  took  pains  to  cultivate  an  acquaintance,  which  he 
had  hitherto  neglected,  and  after  Mr.  Fitzherbert  had 
brought  us  together  at  his  house,  we  interchanged  visits, 
and  it  is  nothing  more  than  natural  to  confess  I  was 
charmed  with  his  company  and  flattered  by  his  attentions. 
I  had  a  house  in  Queen-Anne-Street,  and  he  then  lived  in 
Southampton-Street  Covent  Garden,  where  I  frequently 
went  to  him  and  sometimes  accompanied  him  to  his 
pleasant  villa  at  Hampton.' 

The  Brothers  was  moderately  successful,  and  Davies, 
in  his  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  David  Garrick,  concedes 
it  a  run  of  twelve  nights.  Even  Horace  Walpole,  no 
friend  to  the  average  aspiring  dramatist,  was  moved  to 

5  William  Fitzherbert,  Commissioner  of  the  Board  of  Trade,  a  friend 
of  Garrick's,  and  a  member  of  the  group  which  met  at  the  British  Coffee- 
House.  He  is  mentioned  several  times  by  Cumberland. 


48  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

remark  to  George  Montagu:  'Mr.  Cumberland  has  pro- 
duced a  comedy  called  The  Brothers.  It  acts  well,  but 
reads  ill;  though  I  can  distinguish  strokes  of  Mr.  Bentley 
in  it.  Very  few  of  the  characters  are  marked,  and  the 
serious  ones  have  little  nature,  and  the  comic  ones  are 
rather  too  much  marked;  however,  the  three  middle  acts 
diverted  me  very  well.'6  Montagu's  reply  is  a  vivid 
comment  upon  Cumberland's  fortunes  since  his  parting 
from  Lord  Halifax:  'I  am  glad  it  succeeds,'  he  writes, 
'as  he  has  a  tribe  of  children,  and  is  almost  as  extravagant 
as  his  uncle,  and  a  much  better  man.'7 

If  Cumberland's  epilogue  won  him  one  friend,  his 
prologue  gained  him  a  hundred  enemies.  Thomas 
Davies,  the  actor  and  the  faithful  enemy  of  Cumberland, 
describes  the  situation:  'The  author  opened  his  prologue,' 
says  he,  'with  a  brisk  attack  upon  his  brother  writers, 
somewhat,  I  think,  inauspiciously;  after  reproaching  them 
in  pretty  severe,  though  trite  terms,  with  gleaning  from 
novels,  and  picking  up  offals  from  every  shop  and  stall, 
and  filching  from  each  periodical  work,  or  magazine; 
and,  after  railing  at  them  for  stealing  the  vile  refuse  of 
French  writers,  he  boldly  promised  something  of  English 
manufacture. 

Not  so  our  bard ;  to-night,  he  bids  me  say, 
You  shall  receive  and  judge  an  English  play. 
From  no  man's  jest  he  draws  felonious  praise, 
Nor  from  his  neighbor's  garden  crops  his  lays.  .   .   . 

'If  some  people  were  not  apt  to  forget  as  fast  as  they 
read,'  continues  Davies,  'I  should  suspect  that  the  author 
depended  upon  the  want  of  recollection  or  discernment 
in  his  auditors;  for  surely  the  Brothers  is  beholden  to 

6  Letters  of  Horace  Walpole,  Toynbee  ed.,  7.338. 

7  Paston,  Little  Memoirs  of  the  Eighteenth  Century,  74. 


GARRICK.—THE  BROTHERS  49 

more  than  one  English  author.  .  .  .  We  have  in  our 
English  comedies  several  diverting  squabbles  between 
scolding  wives  and  henpeck'd  husbands;  but  the  last  scene 
of  the  fourth  act,  between  Sir  Benjamin  Dove  and  his 
Lady,  is  apparently  an  imitation  of  another  very  like  it 
in  Mr.  Colman's  Jealous  Wife;8  the  author  has  not 
indeed  varied  it  much/9 

'It  must  be  confessed,'  says  Victor  in  his  History  of 
the  Theatres  of  London,  'the  Author  of  this  Comedy, 
who  also  wrote  the  Prologue,  set  out  rather  injudiciously, 
by  a  general  attack  on  all  his  Brethren  of  the  Sock,  as 
Pirates  on  the  old  English  Authors,  as  Dependants  on 
the  French  Comedies;  and,  at  the  same  Time,  promised 
a  little  too  much  for  himself:  This,  of  course,  brought 
on  the  heaviest  censures  from  his  incensed  Brethren,  who 
were  sure  to  give  him  no  Quarter.  As  to  the  merits  of 
the  Comedy,  I  shall  only  observe  it  was  performed  sev- 
eral Nights,  and  met  with  a  very  favorable  Reception 
from  the  Public.  .  .  .  Tho'  there  were  many  Criticisms 
upon  this  Comedy,  yet  the  impartial  Public  had  great 
Hopes  of  the  Author,  from  the  Variety  of  characters  in 
this  Play.'10 

This  clash  with  rival  authors  was  the  first  of  a  long 
series  of  duels  with  writers  and  critics  in  which  the 
odds  were  all  against  Cumberland.  The  so-called  dra- 
matic critics  of  the  eighteenth  century  acknowledged  no 
master  and  spared  no  man.  Their  critiques  were  impres- 
sionistic, unscholarly,  and  often  absurd;  their  judgments 
were  ill-considered  and  their  language  at  times  grossly 
abusive.  The  plays  of  the  illustrious  and  of  the  obscure 

8  Colman's  Jealous  Wife  was  acted  on  February  12,  1761,  at  Drury 
Lane  Theatre. 

9  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  David  Garrick,  2.264. 

10  History  of  the  Theatres  of  London,  3.166-7. 


So  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 


were  alike  censured  by  the  venomed  pens  of  the  malicious 
scribes.  Sheridan  was  condemned  as  easily  as  the  Rev. 
William  Knapp,  and  Nemo  me  impune  lacessit  was  their 
perennial  motto.  For  these  gentlemen  Sheridan  and 
Garrick  professed  a  contempt  which  they  did  not  always 
feel,  while  their  less  hardy  brethren,  such  as  Colman  or 
Cumberland,  were  almost  abject  in  their  fear.  Why, 
then,  did  Cumberland  immediately  antagonize  this  unlaw- 
ful but  powerful  hierarchy?  The  answer  is  difficult,  and 
we  can  best  understand  Cumberland's  personality  when 
we  realize  that  he  could  not  help  it.  While  painfully 
sensitive  himself  to  the  slightest  innuendo,  his  own  care- 
less tongue  and  pen  threatened  to  leave  him  no  friend. 
He  had  already  estranged  Bickerstaff,  had  preserved 
Garrick's  friendship  with  difficulty,11  and  now,  while  his 
spurs  as  a  dramatist  were  yet  unwon,  he  incontinently 
assailed  those  whose  friendship  he  most  needed.  What 
he  says  in  the  Memoirs  of  the  attack  upon  him,  shows 
his  naivete.  'A  host,'  he  says,  'of  newspaper-writers  fell 
upon  me  for  the  pertness  and  general  satire  of  that 
incautious  composition,  and  I  found  myself  assailed  from 
various  quarters  with  unmitigated  acrimony.  I  made  no 
defense,  and  the  only  one  I  had  to  make  would  hardly 
have  brought  me  off,  for  I  could  have  opposed  nothing 
to  their  charge  against  me,  but  the  simple  and  sincere 
assertion  that  I  alluded  personally  to  no  man,  and  being 
little  versed  in  the  mock-modesty  of  modern  addresses 
to  the  audience,  took  the  old  style  of  prologue  for  my 
model,  and  put  a  bold  countenance  upon  a  bold  adven- 
ture. Numerous  examples  were  before  me  of  prologues 
arrogant  in  -the  extreme;  Johnson  abounds  in  such 

11  The  record  of  an  early  passage  of  arms  with  Garrick  survives  in 
the  letters  respecting  Cumberland's  adaptation  of  Timon  of  Athens. 


GARRICK.—THE  BROTHERS  51 

instances,  but  I  did  not  advert  sufficiently  to  the  change, 
which  time  had  wrought  in  the  circumstances  of  the  dra- 
matic poet,  and  how  much  it  behoved  him  to  lower  his 
tone  in  the  hearing  of  his  audience:  neither  did  Smith, 
who  was  speaker  of  the  prologue,  and  an  experienced 
actor,  warn  me  of  any  danger  in  the  lines  he  undertook 
to  deliver.  In  short  mine  was  the  error  of  inexperience.' 

The  Brothers  is  a  sentimental  comedy  of  the  most  pro- 
nounced type.  On  an  old  estate  on  the  coast  of  Corn- 
wall, with  the  sound  of  the  ocean  and  the  cries  of  sailors 
in  our  ears,  the  dramatist  shows  us  the  elder  of  the  Bel- 
field  brothers  living  selfishly  and  wickedly.  He  has 
deserted  his  wife,  Violetta,  in  Lisbon;  he  has  estranged 
his  brother  from  Sophia,  the  younger  Belfield's  betrothed; 
he  has  seduced  Lucy;  and  has  driven  the  family  of  Philip, 
her  lover,  'to  the  very  brink  of  the  ocean  for  their  habi- 
tation and  subsistence.'12  Belfield  Junior  and  his  uncle, 
Captain  Ironsides,  are  wrecked  near  the  cottage  of  the 
oppressed  family,  and  with  them  is  Violetta,  'twice  ship- 
wrecked, and  twice  rescued  from  the  jaws  of  death.'13 
Vengeance  hesitates  for  almost  five  acts,  but  alights  at 
last  upon  Belfield  Senior  as  he  is  about  to  wed  the  reluc- 
tant Sophia;  the  play  ends  with  Belfield's  repentance, 
and  the  triumph  of  virtue.  The  hardened  villain  with 
the  soft  spot  of  sentimental  comedy  is  dissolved  in  a 
storm  of  remorse:  'I  am,'  he  cries,  'struck  to  the  heart; 
I  cannot  support  my  guilt!  I  am  married  to  Violetta; 
save  me  the  confusion  of  relating  it:  this  dishonourable 
engagement  for  ever  I  renounce;  nor  will  I  rest  till  I 
have  made  an  atonement  to  an  injured  wife.'14 

The  Critical  Review  for  December,   1769,  expresses 

12  The  Brothers,  2.1,  Lucy. 

13  Ibid.,  1.1,  Belfield  Junior. 

14  Ibid.,  5.2. 


52  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

in  original  fashion  what  every  reader  of  The  Brothers 
feels,  the  absence  of  particular  virtues  or  vices  in  the 
play,  and  its  general  lack  of  distinction.  'This  play,' 
says  the  reviewer,  'though  it  has  not  a  faultless  feature 
in  it,  makes  a  tolerable  appearance,  like  some  faces, 
which  recommend  themselves  by  a  happy  assemblage 
of  parts,  which,  when  examined  separately,  are  rather 
below  mediocrity.'  Another  review  of  this  month,  in 
The  Town  and  Country  Magazine,  appraises  the  comedy 
fairly  when  it  says:  'The  Brothers  may  .  .  .  upon  the 
whole,  be  reckoned  a  tolerable  acting  comedy,  notwith- 
standing there  are  many  sentiments  borrowed  in  their 
native  garb,  and  others  new  dressed.'  The  December 
Monthly  Review  observes  that  'the  author  of  this  play 
plumes  himself  on  its  being  an  original.  He  is  much  in 
the  right,  for  there  is  nothing,  that  we  know  of,  like  it, 
among  all  the  comic  productions  of  the  English  theatre. 
It  hath,  however,  had  a  run;  and  perhaps,  not  without 
reason.  We  have  not  seen  it  performed,  but,  we  are 
told,  it  does  not  act  amiss ;  though,  most  certainly,  to  use 
another  town  phrase,  it  does  not  read  at  all.' 

The  Brothers  owed  much  of  its  success  to  scenic  devices 
and  to  the  atmosphere  of  the  sea  in  which  Cumberland 
enveloped  the  play.  'This  piece,'  says  The  Universal 
Magazine  for  December,  1769,  'opens  in  a  very  striking 
and  uncommon  manner  with  the  representation  of  a 
storm  and  a  shipwreck.  In  the  back  of  the  scene  appears 
a  stranded  vessel,  in  which  we  find  that  Robert  Belfield, 
the  younger  of  the  brothers  has  been  shipwrecked  on  the 
coast  of  Cornwall.' 

Several  characters  in  The  Brothers  receive  attention 
in  the  comments  of  the  day.  Against  Captain  Ironsides, 
the  bluff,  good-hearted  skipper,  Davies  levelled  his  charge 


E BROTHERS 


London. Printed  fia- . I. Bell. HritiUi  J.ibnm. Strand 


GARRICK.—THE  BROTHERS  53 

of  plagiarism:  '.  .  .  Sure.ly,  Captain  Ironsides  is  our 
old  friend  Ned  Bowling  dramatically  dressed,  and  taken 
from  a  well-known  work  of  Dr.  Smollet.'  But,  he  says, 
'I  see  no  harm  in  that;  Ned  had  never  trod  the  stage 
before,  and  I  was  glad  to  see  him  make  so  good  a  figure 
upon  the  theatrical  boards.'  But  The  London  Review 
for  December  gives  Ironsides  another  prototype,  say- 
ing he  is,  'with  an  exception  of  his  unpardonable  obscen- 
ity only  .  .  .  Smollett's  Commodore  Trunnion  or  rather 
Captain  Crowe.'  The  popularity  of  this  character  per- 
sisted, for  on  January  16,  1778,  The  London  Chronicle 
says:  'Thursday  night  Mr.  Cumberland's  Comedy  of 
"The  Brothers"  was  presented  at  Covent-garden 
Theatre,  to  give  Mr.  Wilkinson,15  of  York,  an  oppor- 
tunity of  appearing  in  Captain  Ironsides.' 

The  Oxford  Magazine  for  December,  1769,  describes 
the  'very  humorous  scene  between  the  Knight  and  young 
Belfield,  in  which  the  former,  from  an  apprehension  that 
his  antagonist  is  a  rank  coward,  draws  upon  him.'  Sir 
Benjamin's  mistaken  intrepidity  gains  him  his  first  real 
courage:  'You  shall  excuse  me,  sir,'  he  says,  'I  have  had 
some  difficulty  in  drawing  my  sword,  and  am  determined 
now  to  try  what  metal  it's  made  of.'  Thus  Sir  Benja- 
min Dove  becomes  a  man.  Cumberland  believed  firmly 
in  Sir  Benjamin  Dove,  and  says  that  'a  start  of  charac- 
ter such  as  that  of  the  tame  Sir  Benjamin,  is  always  a 
striking  incident  in  the  construction  of  a  drama,  and 
when  a  revolution  of  that  sort  can  be  brought  about 
without  violence  to  nature,  and  for  purposes  essential  to 
the  plot,  it  is  a  point  of  art  well  worthy  the  attention  and 

15Tate  Wilkinson  made  his  first  appearance  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre 
on  October  17,  1758,  and  later  became  a  partner  in  the  managership  of 
various  theatres  in  Yorkshire.  This  performance  of  The  Brothers  brought 
about  his  reappearance  at  Covent  Garden. 


54  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

study  of  a  writer  for  the  stage.  I  recollect,'  he  con- 
cludes, 'that  I  borrowed  the  hint  of  Sir  Benjamin's 
assumed  valour  upon  being  forced  into  a  rencontre  from 
one  of  the  old  comedies,  and  if  I  conjecture  rightly  it  is 
The  Little  French  Lawyer.'™  Genest  calls  Sir  Benjamin 
Dove  one  of  the  best  characters  in  the  play.  The  London 
Review,  however,  thought  him  reminiscent  of  Fribble,  the 
coxcomb  in  Garrick's  farce,  Miss  in  her  Teens,  and  of 
Sir  Paul  Plyant,  the  old  uxorious  knight  in  Congreve's 
Double  Dealer.  He  is,  says  this  reviewer,  'wholly  out 
of  nature.' 

The  other  characters  of  The  Brothers  received  scant 
notice  from  the  reviewers.  'Andrew  Belfield,'  protests 
The  London  Review  for  December,  'is  too  detestable  a 
villain  for  comedy,'  and  The  Critical  Review,  from  a 
curious  angle,  declares  that  Belfield,  'though  a  villain,  is 
supposed  to  be  a  man  of  sense,  but  his  conduct  proves 
him  a  natural  fool,  in  thinking  publickly  to  marry  in 
England  a  lady  of  fortune,  after  having  been  married  in 
Lisbon,  where  every  transaction  of  the  English  is  as  well 
known  as  if  it  passed  in  the  Royal  Exchange  at  Lon- 
don.'17 Although  Violetta  may  easily  pass  as  a  part  of 
the  stage  mechanics,  The  London  Review  thought  her 
attachment  to  Belfield  after  a  knowledge  of  his  turpitude 
'injurious  to  the  virtue  even  of  a  wife.'  The  same  moral 
critic  found  that  'Sophia's  repeated  readiness  to  marry 
either  of  the  brothers  makes  her  absolutely  despicable/ 

The  remaining  characters  are  condemned  en  masse: 
'Lady  Dove,'  says  The  London  Review  for  December, 

16  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  play,  to  be  found  in  the  Folio  of  1647.    A 
version  of  The  Little  French  Lawyer  was  acted  at  Drury  Lane  in  1749, 
and  another  at  Covent  Garden  in  1778. 

17  The   Critical  Review,   December,    1769.     This   magazine   says   that 
Belfield  Junior  is  a  copy  of  Roderick  Random. 


GARRICK.—THE  BROTHERS  55 


1769,  'ought  not  to  have  been  brought  before  an  English 
audience.  As  to  ...  Philip,  Goodwin,  Jonathan,  Francis, 
the  Master  of  the  Privateer,  the  sailors,  Lucy  Waters, 
the  maid,  and  Fanny,  they  are  utterly  useless;  they  indeed, 
spin  out  the  scenes,  but  never  assist  the  business,  and  the 
poet  only  makes  them  talk,  when  he  is  entirely  at  a  stand 
for  incident/ 

The  cast  of  The  Brothers  and  Cumberland's  gossip  in 
the  Memoirs  indicate  the  new  society  with  which  the 
dramatist,  once  the  anchorite  of  Cambridge,  found  him- 
self familiar.  What  would  now  seem  a  quaint  galaxy 
of  histrions  gathered  about  the  doors  of  Covent  Garden. 
Actors  of  as  many  kinds  as  those  once  catalogued  by 
Hamlet  vied  with  each  other  in  the  production  of  each 
new  play.  In  the  rear  of  the  famous  stage  self-important 
tragedians  jostled  each  other,  and  shrill-voiced  actresses 
declaimed  in  imitation  of  the  great  Clive.  The  green- 
room boasted  much, — personality,  whimsical  humour,  and 
some  real  worth.  Here  Cumberland  doubtless  met  and 
knew  Henry  Woodward,  a  comedian  of  the  first  rank, 
who,  between  1729  and  1770,  acted  most  of  the  great 
comedy  roles  of  dramatic  literature.  Here  still  acted 
Richard  Yates,  the  last,  with  the  exception  of  Macklin, 
of  the  old  school  of  acting.  His  Fondlewife,  in  The  Old 
Bachelor,  has  been  a  model  for  able  actors  of  Congreve. 
here,  too,  were  'Gentleman'  Smith,  with  his  air  of  a  uni- 
versity education,  'Dear'  Quick,  the  humorist,  and  Mrs. 
Green,  'excellent  in  the  characters  of  envious  ladies  and 
Abigails.'  With  these  Cumberland  mingled,  and,  later, 
with  the  clientele  of  Drury  Lane.  Small  wonder  that  in 
later  years  his  knowledge  of  the  stage  and  of  its  annals 
seemed  encyclopedic. 

George  Harris  was  then  manager  of  Covent  Garden. 


56  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 


Cumberland  says  that  he  'took  The  Brothers  .  .  .  with 
all  its  responsibility,  supported  it  and  cast  it  with  the 
best  strength  of  his  company.  Woodward  in  the  part  of 
Ironsides,  and  Yates  in  that  of  Sir  Benjamin  Dove,  were 
actors,  that  could  keep  their  scene  alive,  if  any  life  was 
in  it:  Quick,  then  a  young  performer,  took  the  part  of 
Skiff,  and  my  friend  Smith,  who  had  prompted  me  to  the 
undertaking,  was  the  young  man  of  the  piece;  Mrs. 
Green  performed  Lady  Dove,  and  Mrs.  Yates  was  the 
heroine  Sophia.'  Walpole  testifies  to  the  successful  act- 
ing of  The  Brothers.  He  writes  the  Countess  of  Ossory : 
'There  is  a  new  comedy  at  Covent  Garden,  called  "The 
Brothers,"  that  has  great  success,  though  I  am  told  it  is 
chiefly  owing  to  the  actors;  an  obligation  I  should  not 
have  thought  any  play  would  have  had  to  the  present 
actors  at  either  house.'18 

The  actors'  success  centered  in  the  parts  of  Captain 
Ironsides  and  Sir  Benjamin  Dove.  'Mr.  Woodward's 
Captain  Ironsides,'  says  Davies,  'was  a  true  picture  of 
a  brave  English  tar,'19  and  The  Town  and  Country 
Magazine  for  December  declares  that  'though  Wood- 
ward has  been  accused  of  throwing  in  too  much  of  Boba- 
dil  in  his  part,  .  .  .  this  he  has,  in  some  degree,  corrected 
since.'  Ironsides  was  familiar  to  London  audiences  for 
many  seasons,  and  The  London  Chronicle  of  January  16, 
1770,  has  a  long  account  of  Tate  Wilkinson  in  the  role. 
'His  Ironsides,'  says  the  reviewer,  'is  rather  too  much 
inclined  towards  the  extravagant;  the  part  is  here  and 
there  touched  by  the  poet  with  a  warmth  of  colouring 
which  has  led  this  gentleman,  and  many  others,  into  a 
conceit,  that  it  borders  on  the  character  of  Bobadil,  and 

18  Letters  of  Horace  Walpole,  Toynbee  ed.,  7.337. 

19  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  David  Garrick,  2.265. 


GARRICK.—THE  BROTHERS  57 

ought  to  be  thrown  into  a  ridiculous  light;  whereas  the 
features  of  the  part,  in  our  eye,  seem  to  indicate  no  more 
than  a  blunt,  warm-hearted,  sea-worn  mariner,  such  a 
one  as  Smollet  says  Capt.  Bowling  was,  or  such  a  one 
as  we  know  Lord is. 

'Mr.  Woodward  gave  this  part  the  same  extravagant 
peculiarity,  as  the  gentleman  who  played  it  last  night,  and 
at  the  same  time,  that  their  manner  is  different,  the  effect 
in  both  is  the  same.  It  abounds  with  an  infinity  of  senti- 
mental clap-trap,  and  they  add  to  the  bombast  of  the  poet, 
the  rant  of  the  player.' 

The  magazines  of  the  day  say  nothing  of  the  acting  of 
Yates  as  Sir  Benjamin  Dove,  but  an  entry  in  the  Journal 
of  G.  F.  Cooke,  the  actor,  attests  the  success  of  this  role. 
'Dined,'  wrote  Cooke  on  September  25,  1802,  'at  four — 
in  the  evening  went  to  the  pit  of  Drury  Lane  theatre,  to 
see  Mr.  Cherry20  make  his  first  appearance  in  London, 
in  the  part  of  Sir  Benjamin  Dove,  in  Mr.  Cumberland's 
comedy  of  "The  Brothers";  he  was  warmly  received  and 
applauded,  and  remarkably  well.'21  Davies  says  that 
'Mrs.  Yates  condescended  to  act  a  very  trifling  character; 
Sophia,  a  young  lady  supposed  to  be  under  twenty.'25 

Later  actors  in  The  Brothers  were  John  Vandemere, 
the  Dublin  comedian,  James  Aikin,  Richard  Wrough- 
ton,  Isabella  Mattocks,  and  Mrs.  Pope,  the  heroine  of 
the  Irish  stage  during  the  last  decade  of  the  eighteenth 
century.  The  Brothers  was  frequently  revived,  and  was 
acted  with  success  in  America. 

In  spite  of  its  many  weaknesses,  and  in  spite  of  the 
hostile  criticism,  The  Brothers  began  a  new  epoch  in 

20  'Little   Cherry,'   a  favourite  comedian  in   Dublin,  Manchester,   and 
Bath. 

21  Dunlap,  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  George  Frederick  Cooke,  1.262. 

22  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  David  Garrick,  2.264. 


58  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Cumberland's  life.  It  was  the  beginning  of  his  reputa- 
tion in  London;  it  definitely  secured  him  the  friendship 
of  Garrick;  and  it  gave  him  a  strong  consciousness  of  his 
own  powers.  From  this  time  he  wrote  with  assurance 
that  he  would  ultimately  attain  success. 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  WEST  INDIAN.—  DAVID  GARRICK 


success  of  The  Brothers  was,  indeed,  needed  for 
•*-  the  very  sustenance  of  the  Cumberlands.  Although 
the  author  does  not  mention  it  in  his  Memoirs,  he  had 
held  until  April,  1768,  the  office  of  Provost  Marshal  of 
South  Carolina.  A  correspondence  with  his  deputy, 
which  has  survived,  reveals  that  the  post  was  not  lucra- 
tive, but  had  long  promised  greater  things.  In  letters  to 
Pinckney  he  continually  urges  that  the  state  government 
purchase  his  patent.  He  hopes  that  'they  will  give  [him] 
such  a  price  for  it,  as  shall  not  leave  [him]  the  least  room 
for  hesitation  about  parting  with  it;  .  .  .  that  they  will 
vest  as  much  money  in  ye  English  funds,  as  shall  bring 
me  in  ye  same  revenue  as  my  office  now  produces  to  me.' 
The  anxious  one  ends:  'It  is  superfluous  to  tell  you  that 
this  woud  be  such  an  access  to  my  large  and  growing 
family,  such  a  relief  to  a  father's  mind,  as  woud  make 
my  pillow  for  ye  rest  of  my  life  easy  to  me;  the  thing  is 
too  obvious  to  need  explanation.'1  But  the  desired 
exchange  was  not  effected;  hence  the  joy  in  the  new  play's 
fame. 

The  letters  to  Pinckney  reflect  the  great  contest  then 
going  on  for  the  possession  of  a  continent,  and  show 
Cumberland's  staunch  patriotism.  On  January  15,  1767, 
he  writes:  'It  was  yesterday  asserted  by  the  great  Mr. 
P  —  t  in  the  house  of  Commons,  that  ye  British  Parl  —  t 

1  Documents  of  South  Carolina,  ed.  P.  C.  J.  W.,  123-5. 


60  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

had  no  right  to  tax  American  Colonies,  who  were  not 
therin  legally  represented.  It  is  universally  concluded 
from  what  past  on  ye  part  of  Administration  in  conse- 
quence of  this  gentleman's  opinion,  that  ye  Stamp  Act 
will  be  absolutely  revoked  and  rescinded/  Again  in 
reply  to  a  letter  written  several  years  later,  manifesting, 
as  Cumberland  thought,  too  much  'zeal  for  America,' 
he  says:  'You  are  silent  as  to  your  family,  and  all  that 
concerns  a  friend  and  well  wisher  to  hear,  but  you  are 
very  particular  in  your  description  of  the  action  at  Con- 
cord, and  the  inhumanity  of  your  late  countrymen  the 
English  troops.  ...  I  make  no  reply  to  the  list  of 
savage  enormities,  ye  rapine,  plunder,  and  barbarous 
indignities  to  the  mangled  bodies  of  ye  dead,  with  which 
your  information  loads  the  military,  which  in  general 
is  composed  of  the  most  humane  and  always  of  the  most 
brave  amongst  your  countrymen  and  mine.  Time  must 
have  cleared  up  ye  truth  for  you  in  this  particular,  even 
through  the  medium  of  New  England  misrepresentation; 
and  you  will  now  have  another  account  to  lament  over 
of  the  action  on  the  iyth  of  June,  in  which  ye  same  tale 
of  horror  will  be  repeated,  and  ye  same  Tedeums  sung 
by  the  victorious  Bostonians.  ...  I  deplore  the  situation 
of  America  in  every  vein  of  my  heart;  I  think  the 
measures  that  have  inflamed  and  mislead  them  have  not 
originated  with  themselves;  they  have  conceived  the  idea 
of  disobedience  and  disorder  from  the  conduct  of  certain 
politicians  in  ye  heart  of  this  realm;  but  the  politicians 
have  been  opposers  and  not  abettors  of  administration.'2 
At  the  beginning  of  1770,  when  Cumberland  was  not 
quite  forty  years  old,  fortune  brightened.  His  talents, 
quiet  and  unobtrusive,  were  illumined  by  a  new  light  of 

2  Documents  of  South  Carolina,  ed.  P.  C.  J.  W.,  125-6. 


THE  WEST  INDIAN.— DAVID  GARRICK         61 

popularity;  and  powers  of  scholarship,  which  were  not 
alone  strong  enough  to  rescue  him  from  obscurity,  lent 
distinction  to  his  position  as  a  dramatist.  It  was  felt  that 
when  sons  of  hostlers  and  inn-keepers  wrote  successfully 
for  the  stage,  the  grandson  of  Richard  Bentley  and  Bishop 
Cumberland  should  be  given  at  least  just  recognition. 
The  personnel  of  English  dramatic  writers  needed  the 
influences  of  breeding  and  character.  Cumberland  was 
less  known  as  a  writer  of  plays  than  as  a  scholar  or  man 
of  position  whose  services  to  the  theatre  were  an  adorn- 
ment to  the  dramatic  profession.  He  was  early  dis- 
tinguished from  his  fellows  as  'the  elegant  Cumberland.' 
By  the  single  success  of  The  Brothers  were  brought  into 
general  knowledge  his  manner  of  living  and  his  past 
dramatic  ventures.  Curiosity  concerning  the  new  writer 
is  reflected  in  The  Whitehall  Evening  Post  of  December 
4,  1769.  'Notwithstanding  some  reports  to  the  con- 
trary,' says  the  editor,  'we  can  assure  our  readers  that 
the  new  Comedy  called  The  Brothers,  is  written  by 
-  Cumberland;  who  possesses  a  considerable  post  in 
the  Treasury,  and  is  the  author  of  a  tragedy  called,  The 
Banishment  of  Cicero,  and  a  musical  Comedy,  entitled, 
The  Summer's  Tale.'  Cumberland's  own  satisfaction 
must  have  been  supreme.  The  disappointments,  un- 
usually keen  to  a  man  of  his  temperament,  of  the  relin- 
quished university  life,  and  of  the  failure  with  Lord 
Halifax,  were  now  softened.  His  family  was  large,  his 
income  small,  but  Mrs.  Cumberland's  fortune  seemed  a 
bar  against  dire  necessity;  Cumberland  saw  before  him 
with  not  unmoved  heart  a  new  and  promising  way  to 
carry  forward  the  torch  of  his  ancestors. 

He  was  at  once  powerfully  and  weakly  equipped  to 
write  for  the  English  stage  of  the  eighteenth  century. 


62  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

He  was  to  experience  both  brilliant  success  and  humiliat- 
ing failure;  and  his  unevenness  may  be  traced  first  and 
last  to  strange  personality.  For  dramatic  writing  he 
had  many  talents.  His  passion  for  the  stage  itself  was 
innate  and  deep  seated;  he  saw  plays  with  enthusiasm 
and  with  more  than  usual  insight  into  their  merits  and 
faults;  his  judgments  of  actors'  abilities  were  penetrating 
and  sound;  and  he  occasionally  acted  himself.  In  addi- 
tion to  these  gifts  he  was  possessed  of  a  rare  knowledge 
and  command  of  all  previous  drama,  both  ancient  and 
modern.  His  plays  are  steeped  in  scenes  and  language 
reminiscent  of  the  masters.  What  Goldsmith  said  in 
jest  became  sober  truth.  He  was,  in  reality,  'the  Terence 
of  England.'  Finally,  his  ancestry  and  education,  com- 
bined with  natural  sensibility,  gave  his  productions  a 
certain  fineness,  markedly  absent  in  the  work  of  Kelly, 
Holcroft,  and  their  kind.  However  bad,  Cumberland's 
plays  are  those  of  a  gentleman.  But  here  the  catalogue 
of  dramatic  virtues  ends.  Cumberland's  learning  had 
been  got  at  the  price  of  knowledge  of  men.  His  whole 
life  is  a  record  of  trivial  irritations  and  useless  enmities. 
When  bound  by  worshipful  admiration,  as  in  the  case  of 
Johnson,  his  envy  and  emulation  were  under  control, 
although  this  modesty  was  likely  to  turn  into  something 
depressingly  near  sycophancy.  But  let  there  enter  the 
element  of  competition,  and  all  was  lost.  What  might 
have  been  profitable  professional  friendships  were  turned 
to  rivalries  by  the  dramatist's  petty  jealousies.  The  same 
disposition  which  had  preferred  a  cloistered  life  at  Cam- 
bridge to  one  of  energy  and  action  under  Lord  Halifax 
endured  agonies  in  a  life  in  which  no  man's  tongue  was 
bridled  save  from  fear.  Poor  Cumberland!  With  his 
ideal  of  scholarly  perfection,  and  his  tremulous  self- 


THE  WEST  INDIAN.— DAVID  GARRICK         63 

esteem,  he  suffered  keenly.  The  laughter  of  Colman  and 
Garrick  he  endured  with  difficulty,  and  the  malice  of 
Sheridan  and  of  the  newspaper  critics  drove  him  to  mad- 
ness. He  lacked  what  Garrick  rightly  considered  an 
essential  for  a  dramatic  writer,  'a  rhinoceros's  hide/ 

Garrick  was  soon  to  have  experience  with  the  gentle- 
man dramatist's  personality.  We  may  assume  that  after 
the  success  of  The  Brothers  Cumberland  saw  much  of 
Garrick,  either  at  his  own  home  in  Queen-Anne  Street  or 
about  London.  Early  in  1770,  with  characteristic  indus- 
try he  is  at  work  upon  another  tragedy.  This  play  was 
the  ill-fated  Salome,  later  made  over  into  The  Arab.  He 
besought  Garrick  to  accept  the  tragedy,  and  a  letter 
dated  January  25,  1770,  depicts  the  relations  of  the 
two  men.  Cumberland  is  in  the  dust  before  the  throne. 
He  protests  earnestly  his  acceptance  of  criticism:  'I  am  as 
ready  to  adopt  unfavorable  sentiments  of  my  own  per- 
formance as  any  man  living,  and  therefore  do  not  allow 
that  we  differ  in  opinion  about  "Salome."  I  gave  it  to  you 
(as  I  have  done  every  other  performance  of  mine)  as  the 
best  I  could  write,  but  I  did  not  insist  upon  it  that  you  was 
to  approve  of  it.'3  With  characteristic  deprecation  and 
equally  characteristic  persistence,  he  begs  Garrick  for  an 
interview,  for  he  has  still  'a  little  partiality  left,  a  small 
feeling  for  a  performance  which  has  been  many  years 
under  [his]  pen/  and  he  raps  slyly  at  Garrick's  judg- 
ment when  he  adds:  'and  which  hitherto  no  friend  (not 
even  Mr.  Colman  himself)  has  assisted  with  an  objec- 
tion. I  can  by  no  means  wish  to  have  any  piece  put  into 
a  performer's  hands  which  a  manager  disapproves.' 

A  letter  written  on  March  17  shows,  even  more  clearly, 
Cumberland's  pliant  hopefulness.  He  is  sending  Gar- 

3  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.380. 


64  RICH4RD  CUMBERLAND 

rick  his  tragedy,  but  'not  guided  ...  by  any  other 
motives  than  extreme  solicitude  for  [his]  judgment.'4 
He  declares  that  'no  labour  will  deter  [him]  from  giving 
this  every  finishing  that  his  pen  can  give  it,'  because  he 
wishes  to  save  their  'mutual  fame.1  The  remainder  of  the 
letter  is  too  amusingly  typical  not  to  be  quoted  almost 
entire: 

Your  objections  [he  writes]  bring  so  much  amendment  with 
them,  that  if  you  are  not  tired  of  making  them,  I  can  never  be 
weary  of  receiving  them.  ...  If  yet  the  catastrophe  is  too  shock- 
ing, by  the  danger  in  which  Glaphyra5  is  kept,  I  have  a  plan  for 
softening  that,  though  I  am  humbly  of  opinion  it  has  a  very  great 
effect  as  it  is.  .  .  .1  write  this  to  you,  Sir,  not  to  puff  my  per- 
formance, but  to  explain  my  meaning.  Pray  keep  it,  without 
troubling  yourself  about  an  answer,  as  long  as  ever  you  please,  and 
till  you  have  full  leisure;  for,  I  should  earnestly  wish  that  you 
did  not  take  it  up  till  you  could  read  it  fairly  through  at  one 
sitting.  .  .  . 

Dear  Sir,  your  most  obedient  and  faithful  servant, 

Richard  Cumberland.6 

Later  Garrick  grew  tired  of  the  conciliatory,  anxious 
tone.  This  was  evidently  the  expression  of  a  strong 
phase  of  Cumberland's  nature,  for  which  the  kindliest, 
if  not  the  truest,  name  is  self-distrust.  Now,  however, 
Garrick  took  him  at  his  real  worth,  a  dramatist  of 
promise,  and  let  the  rest  go. 

It  was  Cumberland's  custom,  while  living  in  Queen- 
Anne  Street,  to  pass  the  summers  with  his  parents  in 
Clonfert,  Ireland.  Here  was  Denison  Cumberland's 
bishopric.  .In  1770,  in  high  spirits  over  the  success  of 

4  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.381. 

5  A  character  in  The  Arab. 

6  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.381-2. 


THE  WEST  INDIAN.— DAVID  GARRICK         65 

The  Brothers,  and  filled  with  visions  of  greater  plays, 
he  set  out  on  the  annual  pilgrimage.  Cumberland's 
prose  has  seldom  been  more  happy  than  in  this  brief 
account  of  the  passage  to  Ireland.  The  letter  is  written 
to  Garrick  from  Kildare  Street,  Dublin,  and  bears  the 
date  of  July  4.  'One  of  the  first  offices,'  he  begins, 
'following  those  of  duty,  is  to  give  myself  the  importance 
with  you  of  acquainting  you  of  my  safe  arrival  in  this 
place  on  the  night  of  the  3Oth  instant,  after  a  calm  and 
pleasant  voyage  of  thirty-six  hours  in  a  Parksgate  ship, 
which  on  my  arrival  I  found  with  her  topsails  unbent, 
and  ready  to  catch  the  first  favorable  breeze.  My  dear 
woman  and  the  little  boys,  who  had  been  charming  com- 
panions on  board  to  me,  did  not  lose  their  spirits  by 
sea ;  and  as  I  lashed  my  chariot  on  deck  we  sate  in  it  with 
great  state  and  composure.  .  .  .'T 

Cumberland  found  the  bishop's  family  in  the  'episco- 
pal residence,'  a  cheerful  group  in  spite  of  the  dreary 
bog  of  Clonfert.  Material  exceeded  even  spiritual  want 
in  the  wretched  country,  and  the  bishop's  hand  was 
everywhere,  lightening  heavy  burdens.  By  his  ministra- 
tions poverty  became  less  sordid  and  more  tolerable,  and 
those  who  had  been  like  beasts  became  men.  'I  was,' 
writes  his  devoted  son,  'delighted  with  contemplating  a 
kind  of  new  creation,  of  which  my  father  was  the  author.' 
A  practical  good  from  the  summers  in  Ireland  lay  in  the 
dramatist's  study  of  Irish  character.  Cumberland  was 
not  a  psychological  observer  of  character,  but  he  had 
'the  portrait  painting  hand.'  He  thought  the  Irish  savage 
and  licentious,  but  with  'wild  eccentric  humours.'  'If,'  he 
says,  'I  have  been  successful  in  my  sketches  of  the  Irish 
character,  it  was  here  I  studied  it  in  its  purest  and  most 

7  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.425. 


66  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

primitive  state;  from  high  to  low  it  was  now  under  my 
view.' 

Among  the  Irish  peculiarities  which  Cumberland 
remarked  were  those  of  Lord  Eyre  of  Eyre  Court,  a 
friend  of  Bishop  Clonfert's.  This  unusual  person  was 
the  owner  of  a  vast  estate,  and  lived  in  an  elaborate 
mansion  near  Clonfert.  'Whilst  his  table  groaned  with 
abundance,  the  order  and  the  good  taste  of  its  arrange- 
ments were  little  thought  of:  the  slaughtered  ox  was 
hung  up  whole,  and  the  hungry  servitor  supplied  himself 
with  his  dole  of  flesh,  sliced  from  off  the  carcass/  Lord 
Eyre's  manner  of  life  amused  Cumberland.  'His  Lord- 
ship's day  was  so  apportioned  as  to  give  the  afternoon 
by  much  the  largest  share  of  it,  during  which,  from  an 
early  dinner  to  the  hour  of  rest,  he  never  left  his  chair, 
nor  did  the  claret  ever  quit  the  table.  This  did  not 
produce  inebriety,  for  it  was  sipping  rather  than  drink- 
ing that  filled  up  the  time,  and  this  mechanical  process 
of  gradually  moistening  the  human  clay  was  carried  on 
with  very  little  aid  from  conversation,  for  His  Lordship's 
companions  were  not  very  communicative,  and  fortu- 
nately he  was  not  very  curious.  He  lived  in  an  enviable 
independence  as  to  reading,  and  of  course  had  no  books. 
Not  one  of  the  windows  of  his  castle  was  made  to  open, 
but  luckily  he  had  no  liking  for  fresh  air,  and  the  conse- 
quence may  be  better  conceived  than  described.' 

During  this  summer  at  Clonfert,  Cumberland  wrote 
The  West  Indian.  Salome  seems  to  have  been  held  in 
abeyance,  but  Cumberland  was  cheered  by  the  success  of 
The  Brothers.  With  his  intellectual  powers  at  their  best 
he  eagerly  set  about  his  task.  His  affection  for  his 
family  was  always  beautiful,  and  these  peaceful  days 
with  them  made  his  work  easier.  The  signs  of  haste  and 


THE  WEST  INDIAN.— DAVID  GARRICK         67 

distraction  so  apparent  in  later  plays  are  lacking  in  The 
West  Indian.  Cumberland's  story  of  the  writing  of  this 
play  reveals  his  real  nature.  He  says:  'I  had  none  of 
those  incessant  avocations,  which  forever  crossed  me  in 
the  writing  of  The  Brothers,  I  was  master  of  my  time, 
my  mind  was  free,  and  I  was  happy  in  the  society  of  the 
dearest  friends  I  had  on  earth.  In  parents,  sister,  wife 
and  children  greater  blessings  no  man  could  enjoy.  The 
calls  of  office,  the  cavillings  of  angry  rivals,  and  the 
jibings  of  news-paper  critics  could  not  reach  me  on  the 
banks  of  the  Shannon,  where  all  within  doors  was  love 
and  affection,  all  without  was  gratitude  and  kindness 
devolved  on  me  through  the  merits  of  my  father.  In  no 
other  period  of  my  life  have  the  same  happy  circum- 
stances combined  to  cheer  me  in  any  of  my  literary 
labours.' 

Cumberland's  study  was  at  the  rear  of  the  episcopal 
palace,  and  from  the  window  of  a  small,  unfurnished 
room  he  had  the  prospect  of  a  lonely  turf-stack,  an  object 
which,  as  he  remarks  seriously,  cannot  'call  off  the  fancy 
from  its  pursuits/  In  this  Irish  hut  was  written  a 
comedy  which  was  to  be  acted  on  the  English  stage  for 
thirty  years.  'It  was  a  fortunate  room,'  says  Mrs.  Inch- 
bald,  'and  if  equal  success  were  attached  to  the  spot,  it 
would  be  worth  the  pains  of  a  voyage  to  Ireland,  over 
a  stormy  sea,  with  a  view  to  such  another  composition.'8 
John  O'Keeffe,  the  actor,  declares  that  'a  spot  in  the 
garden  where  [Cumberland]  studied  was  held  in  great 
veneration,'9  and  that  the  owner,  out  of  respect  to 
his  memory,  never  allowed  the  summer-house  to  be 
destroyed. 

8  The  British  Theatre,  18,  'Remarks  Prefatory  to  "The  West  Indian."  ' 

9  Recollections  of  the  Life  of  John  O'Keeffe,  1.355. 


68  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Cumberland,  moreover,  was  sustained  by  the  knowl- 
edge that  he  was  writing  under  the  eye  of  Garrick.  The 
friendship  had  thus  far  flourished.  Garrick  had  recently 
cleared  Cumberland  of  a  false  imputation  in  the  eyes 
of  Edmund  Burke;  Mrs.  Cumberland  and  Mrs.  Gar- 
rick were  now  friends;  Cumberland  himself  had  been 
personal  envoy  for  Garrick,  bearing  a  message  to  George 
Faulkner  in  Dublin.  The  actor  and  the  dramatist  cor- 
responded regularly,  and  with  much  friendliness  on  both 
sides.  It  was  clear  that  Garrick,  'ever  attentive  to  vari- 
gate  the  dramatic  amusements  of  the  town,' — as  the 
eloquent  Town  and  Country  Magazine  had  it — saw  in 
Cumberland  a  successful  dramatist,  and  in  The  West 
Indian  a  promising  comedy.  Did  he  foresee  that  it  was 
to  be  the  most  popular  sentimental  drama  of  the  age? 
Together  Garrick  and  Cumberland  worked  over  The 
West  Indian.  'My  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Garrick,'  says 
Cumberland,  'had  become  intimacy  between  the  acting  of 
The  Brothers  and  The  West  Indian.  I  resorted  to  him 
again  and  again  with  the  manuscript  of  my  comedy.'  On 
July  2,  1770,  Cumberland  wrote  Garrick  concerning 
revision  of  The  West  Indian.  'I  have,'  he  says  in  the 
tone  which  Garrick  later  ridiculed,  'had  twice  the  pleasure 
in  following  your  corrections,  that  I  had  in  composing  the 
piece;  and  if  your  patience  does  not  give  out,  mine  never 
will.'10 

In  the  fall  Cumberland  returned  to  England,  and  the 
remoulding  of  The  West  Indian  went  on  more  earnestly 
than  ever.  At  Hampton  Villa,  where  Garrick  dispensed 
'true  taste,  good  fare,  and  good  company,'  the  details  of 
the  first  night,  and  the  selection  of  cast  were  discussed. 
Garrick,  according  to  his  custom,  decided  all  questions  of 

10  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.387. 


THE  WEST  INDIAN.— DAVID  GARRICK         69 

importance.  Cumberland  depended  upon  the  judgment 
of  his  far-sighted  friend:  'I  took  no  part  in  the  question,' 
he  says,  in  regard  to  the  selection  of  an  actor  for  the 
part  of  Major  O'Flaherty,  'for  I  was  entitled  to  no 
opinion.'  Garrick's  help  in  this  play,  as  in  others  of 
Cumberland's,  was  far  from  academic.  He  changed 
scenes,  rewrote  speeches,  and,  from  his  wide  experience, 
made  the  play  better  suited  to  the  stage.  In  the  original 
draft  of  the  drama,  Belcour,  the  mercurial  West  Indian, 
enters  quietly  and  unostentatiously.  This  Garrick 
changed  in  characteristic  fashion.  'I  want,'  he  said  to 
Cumberland,  while  they  were  riding  to  Hampton,  'some- 
thing more  to  be  announced  of  your  West  Indian  before 
you  bring  him  on  the  stage  to  give  eclat  to  his  entrance, 
and  rouse  the  curiosity  of  the  audience;  that  they  may 
say, — Aye,  here  he  comes  with  all  his  colours  flying — .' 
So  Cumberland  writes:  'I  entirely  adopt  your  observa- 
tion on  the  first  scene,  and  have  already  executed  it  in  a 
manner  that  I  hope  embraces  your  ideas.'11  Thus  the 
amended  play  has  what  Garrick  called  the  'trumpeters' 
for  Belcour's  entrance:  the  cloud  of  black  servants,  the 
innumerable  portmanteaus,  and  the  flock  of  strange 
birds.  Garrick's  knowledge  of  stagecraft  was  uncanny, 
and  this  was  but  one  of  the  invaluable  lessons  learned 
from  him  by  Cumberland.  'I  found  in  him,'  says  Cum- 
berland, 'what  my  inexperience  stood  in  need  of,  an 
admirable  judge  of  stage  effect.' 

As  the  first  night  drew  near  Cumberland  feared  fail- 
ure, and  desired  The  West  Indian  to  appear  unheralded. 
'I  could  much  wish,'  he  writes  Garrick,  'that,  if  this 
comedy  comes  out  next  season  at  your  theatre,  it  might 
steal  quietly  and  silently  into  the  world;  there  are  but 

11  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.387. 


70  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

two  men,  yourself  excepted,  that  ever  heard  a  word  of 
it,  and  they  only  in  part.'12  The  author  also  desired  that 
the  name  of  the  play  be  concealed,  lest  the  comedy  be 
robbed  of  its  novelty. 

Neither  of  these  hopes,  if  they  were  sincere,  was 
gratified,  and  with  a  liberal  sale  of  seats  several  nights 
before  the  first  performance,  Cumberland  felt  his  appre- 
hensions rising.  He  jestingly  offered  Garrick  the  pro- 
ceeds of  the  play  in  exchange  for  a  Del  Sarto  hanging 
above  the  actor's  chimney-piece,  and  Garrick,  who  was 
all  optimism,  would  have  accepted,  had  not  the  picture 
been  a  gift  from  Lord  Baltimore. 

On  the  first  night  Cumberland  and  Garrick,  with  their 
ladies,  sat  in  the  actor's  private  box.  The  author's  fears 
were  not  diminished  when  a  large  body  of  West  Indians, 
attracted  by  the  name  of  the  play,  marched  aggressively 
into  the  theatre,  prepared  to  resent  insults.  The  open- 
ing lines  of  the  prologue  were  not  calculated  to  soothe 
these  gentlemen: 

Critics,  hark  forward !  noble  game  and  new ; 
A  fine  West  Indian  started  full  in  view : 
Hot  as  the  soil,  the  clime  which  gave  him  birth, 
You'll  run  him  on  a  burning  scent  to  earth. 

So  far  had  Reddish,13  the  prologist,  spoken  when  a 
furious  uproar  interrupted  him.  'Garrick,'  says  Cum- 
berland, 'was  much  agitated;  he  observed  to  me  that  the 
appearance  of  the  house,  particularly  in  the  pit,  was  more 
hostile  than  he  had  ever  seen  it.' 
Reddish  continued: 

12  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.387. 

13  Samuel  Reddish  played  important  parts  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre  from 
1767  to  1778. 


THE  WEST  INDIAN.— DAVID  GARRICK         71 

That  country  has  no  feeble  claim, 

Which  swells  your  commerce,  and  supports  your  fame, 
And  in  this  humble  sketch,  we  hope  you'll  find 
Some  emanations  of  a  noble  mind. 

This  was  more  cordial,  and  wrung  tolerance  from  the 
suspicious  patriots,  and  the  remaining  lines  won  the 
applause  of  the  Hibernians  in  the  gallery.14  The  crisis 
was  past,  and  The  West  Indian  was  a  success. 

'Eight  and  twenty  successive  nights,'  says  Cumber- 
land proudly,  'it  went  without  the  buttress  of  an  after- 
piece.' 'This  Comedy,'  so  runs  Victor's  description,  'has 
fully  answered  the  Expectations  of  the  Public  from  this 
improving  Dramatic  Author.  It  has  unquestioned  Merit : 
—and  though  when  critically  compared,  not  quite  equal 
to  some  few  of  our  best  Comedies,  yet  the  success  that 
has  attended  the  Performance  of  the  West  Indian  has 
exceeded  that  of  any  Comedy  within  the  Memory  of  the 
oldest  Man  living.  There  was  the  same  Demand  for 
Places  in  the  Boxes,  and  the  same  crowding  to  get  into 
the  Pit  and  Galleries  at  the  twenty-sixth  Representation, 
as  on  the  first  night!'15  The  popularity  of  the  play  was 
almost  unequalled  in  the  history  of  sentimental  comedy. 
On  February  13,  The  Whitehall  Evening  Post  writes 
that  'the  new  Comedy  of  the  West  Indian  is  still  per- 
forming at  Drury  Lane  Theatre  with  great  applause,' 
and  on  July  26,  Richard  Burke  writes  to  Garrick  from 
Ireland  with  some  petulance:  'Curse  your  "West 
Indian" !  I  hope  the  run  of  it  will  be  over  by  the  time 

14  The  last  lines  of  the  prologue  described  Major  O'Flaherty: 

A  brave,  unthinking,  animated  rogue, 
With  here  and  there  a  touch  upon  the  brogue ; 
Laugh,  but  despise  him  not,  for  on  his  lip 
His  errors  lie;  his  heart  can  never  trip. 

15  History  of  the  Theatres  of  London,  3.174. 


^2  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

I  get  home.'18  Cumberland  obtained  for  the  copyright 
£150,  and  says  that  twelve  thousand  copies  of  the  play 
were  sold. 

Perhaps  the  best  picture  of  the  author's  happiness 
in  the  success  of  The  West  Indian  is  contained  in  the 
Memoirs.  'When,'  he  says,  'Mr.  Evans  the  treasurer 
came  to  my  house  in  Queen-Anne-Street  in  a  hackney 
coach  with  a  huge  bag  of  money,  he  spread  it  all  in 
gold  upon  my  table,  and  seemed  to  contemplate  it  with 
a  kind  of  ecstasy,  that  was  extremely  droll;  and  when 
I  tendered  him  his  customary  fee,  he  peremptorily  refused 
it,  saying  he  had  never  paid  an  author  so  much  before,  I 
had  fairly  earnt  it,  and  he  would  not  lessen  it  a  single 
shilling,  not  even  his  coach  hire,  and  in  that  humor  he 
departed.  He  had  no  sooner  left  the  room  than  one 
entered  it,  who  was  not  quite  so  scrupulous,  but  quite  as 
welcome ;  my  beloved  wife  took  twenty  guineas  from  the 
heap,  and  instantly  bestowed  them  on  the  faithful  servant, 
who  had  attended  on  our  children;  a  tribute  justly  due 
to  her  unwearied  diligence  and  exemplary  conduct.' 

Garrick  was  pleased  at  the  fame  of  The  West  Indian, 
both  for  the  author's  sake  and  for  his  own.  Cumber- 
land's fame  was  Garrick's.  He  rejoiced,  accordingly, 
but  we  find  in  his  contentment  a  keen  sense  of  the 
dramatist's  peculiarities.  Garrick,  who,  above  all  others, 
save,  perhaps,  Samuel  Foote,  perceived  the  ridiculous  in 
his  fellows,  could  not  fail  to  observe  in  Cumberland  the 
strange  compound  of  pride,  diffidence,  and  self-conscious- 
ness. He  laughed  often  at  Cumberland,  and  the  laugh- 
ter sometimes  lacked  the  note  of  kindliness.  Garrick's 
feelings  towards  his  friend  at  this  time  are  unconsciously 
revealed  by  Cumberland  himself  in  the  Memoirs.  In 

16  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.429. 


THE  WEST  INDIAN.— DAVID  GARRICK         73 

spite  of  his  readiness  to  resent  an  affront,  Cumberland 
was  often  singularly  obtuse  to  skilful  raillery.  On  a 
morning  during  the  run  of  The  West  Indian  the  dram- 
atist called  on  his  patron.  That  master  of  mockery 
had  evidently  resolved  to  torment  his  admirer,  but, 
though  he  jested  recklessly  with  an  unpleasant  truth,  his 
words  failed  to  pierce  his  admirer's  armour  of  vanity, 
which  was  now  well-nigh  invulnerable.  Cumberland's 
account  of  the  interview  follows :  4I  found  him  with 
the  St.  James's  evening  paper  in  his  hand,  which  he 
began  to  read  with  a  voice  and  action  of  surprise, 
most  admirably  counterfeited — "Here,  here,"  he  cried, 
"if  your  skin  is  less  thick  than  a  rhinoceros's  hide,  egad, 
here  is  that  will  cut  you  to  the  bone.  This  is  a  terrible 
fellow;  I  wonder  who  it  can  be." — He  began  to  sing  out 
his  libel  in  a  high  declamatory  tone,  with  a  most  comic 
countenance,  and  pausing  at  the  end  of  the  first  sentence, 
which  seemed  to  favour  his  contrivance  for  a  little 
ingenious  tormenting,  when  he  found  he  had  hooked  me, 
he  laid  down  the  paper,  and  began  to  comment  upon 
the  cruelty  of  newspapers,  and  moan  over  me  with  a 
great  deal  of  malicious  fun  and  good  humour — "Con- 
found these  fellows,  they  spare  nobody.  I  dare  say  this 
is  Bickerstaff  again;  but  you  don't  mind  him;  no,  no,  I 
see  you  don't  mind  him;  a  little  galled,  but  not  much 
hurt:  you  may  stop  his  mouth  with  a  golden  gag,  but 
we'll  see  how  he  goes  on." — He  then  resumed  his  read- 
ing, cheering  me  all  the  way  as  it  began  to  soften,  till 
winding  up  in  the  most  profest  panegyric,  of  which  he 
was  himself  the  writer,  I  found  my  friend  had  had  his 
joke,  and  I  had  enjoyed  his  praise,  seasoned  and  set  off, 
in  his  inimitable  manner,  which  to  be  comprehended  must 
have  been  seen.' 


74  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

But  praise,  even  from  Garrick,  was  not  undeserved. 
Cumberland  had  not  exactly  waked  to  find  himself 
famous,  but  he  had  won  a  very  comfortable  share  of 
glory,  and  he  was  content.  He  was  now  known  in  Lon- 
don and  Dublin  as  a  dramatist  of  ability  and  promise. 
Famous  men  are  easily  persuaded  that  they  are  great. 
Cumberland  had  never  felt  or  professed  indifference  to 
fame,  and  it  is  to  be  feared  that  he  regarded  it  as  essen- 
tial rather  than  incidental  to  true  greatness.  Certainly 
no  great  sense  of  power  in  his  heart  counselled  delay  till 
he  might  substitute  recognized  genius  for  transient 
popularity.  A  few  powerful  plays  he  could  not  write. 
Instead  he  wrote  many,  some  well,  some  badly.  He 
sought  reputation  at  all  costs,  and  the  years  immediately 
following  The  West  Indian  were  the  golden  ones.  Let- 
ters written  from  Ireland  during  the  summer  of  1771 
reflect  his  satisfaction.  'It  is/  he  tells  Garrick,  'not 
only  individuals  of  the  first  rank  in  this  kingdom  that 
have  caressed  your  undeserving  friend,  but  the  university 
of  Dublin  have,  of  their  own  mere  motion  and  brevity, 
conferred  upon  me  an  honorary  degree  of  Doctor  of 
Civil  Law,  at  the  Public  Commencement.'  So  many  were 
the  attentions  showered  upon  Cumberland,  that  his  eter- 
nal bete  noir,  the  reviewer,  held  no  terrors  for  him.  'It 
is  well/  he  confides  in  Garrick,  'that  the  snarlers  at  home 
now  and  then  give  me  a  snap,  else  I  should  swell  like  the 
frog  in  the  fable,  not  only  with  Irish  Hospitality,  but 
with  Irish  flattery/  And  he  adds  generously:  'I  am 
bound  to  report  all  these  flattering  circumstances  to  you, 
who  are  the  friend  and  father  of  my  fame,  and  to  whom 
I  owe  an  account  of  everything  relating  to  it/1T 

The  cause   of  all  this   adulation,    The  West  Indian, 

17  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.427. 


THE  WEST  INDIAN.— DAVID  GARRICK         75 

survives.  The  modern  reader  finds  it  an  entertaining 
comedy,  and,  if  interested,  may  discover  in  it  a  reflec- 
tion of  the  great  eighteenth  century  mood  of  sentimental- 
ism.  It  tells  in  brisk  fashion  the  story  of  Belcour,  a 
youth  all  air  and  fire,  of  English  parents  but  of  tropical 
birth.  Merchant  Stockwell,  apparently  Belcour's  guard- 
ian, but  in  reality  his  father,  plans  to  keep  the  young 
man  in  ignorance  of  his  birth  that  he  may  determine  how 
far  the  irregularities  of  the  torrid  zone  have  affected 
his  character.  At  the  opening  of  the  play  Belcour  is 
posting  with  characteristically  hot  haste  from  Jamaica  to 
England,  and  on  his  arrival  pursues  a  meteor-like  career 
through  the  five  acts  of  the  play.  He  is  early  duped 
into  believing  that  Louisa  Dudley,  the  daughter  of  an 
English  officer,  may  become  his  mistress.  A  closely 
linked  episode  is  Charlotte  Rusport's  love  affair  with 
Charles  Dudley,  the  brother  of  Louisa.  Out  of  benevo- 
lence and  love  for  the  diffident  Charles,  Charlotte  tries 
to  restore  the  fortunes  of  old  Captain  Dudley.  A  casket 
of  Miss  Rusport's  jewels,  consigned  to  Stockwell  as 
security  in  this  transaction,  is  returned  by  the  merchant 
through  Belcour.  This  'fallible,  but  not  incorrigible 
hero,'  gives  them  to  the  Fulmers,  to  speed  his  wooing  of 
Louisa.  'If,'  he  cries  out,  'I  had  the  throne  of  Delhi,  I 
should  give  it  to  her.'18  Belcour's  ardent  campaign 
against  Louisa  is  at  length  checked  by  the  angry  Charles, 
and  the  pair  cross  swords.  They  are  separated  by  Major 
O'Flaherty,  the  admirer  of  Lady  Rusport  and  the  staunch 
upholder  of  sentimental  virtue.  Thus  the  Belcour  epi- 
sode pivots  the  plot.  The  denouement  is  brought 
about  in  the  capricious  manner  of  sentimental  comedy. 
Belcour  repents  of  his  licentious  wooing,  and  is  at  once 

is  The  West  Indian,  3.2. 


76  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

forgiven  by  the  Dudleys;  his  'libertine  addresses'  are  dis- 
missed with  a  slight  reproof;  and  he  becomes  Louisa's 
'reformed'  and  'rational  admirer.'  The  West  Indian 
thus  proves  himself  'no  unprincipled,  no  hardened  liber- 
tine,' but  one  whose  'love  for  Louisa  and  for  virtue  is 
the  same.'  He  is  rewarded  by  the  knowledge  that  Stock- 
well  is  his  father.  By  the  sudden  appearance  of  a  new 
will  the  fortune  of  Lady  Rusport,  who  has  long  perse- 
cuted her  niece,  is  transferred  to  Charles,  thus  rendering 
the  young  officer  free  to  wed  Charlotte. 

Such  was  the  plot  which  so  delighted  the  age, — a  plot 
which  The  Monthly  Review  for  February,  1771,  declared 
to  be  'complicated  without  complexity,'  and  which  two 
other  magazines  for  January  of  the  same  year  character- 
ized as  filled  with  a  'benevolence  breathing  .  .  .  frequently 
through  ...  a  variety  of  incidents.'  'This  plot  is,'  said 
The  Whitehall  Evening  Post  of  February  9,  1771,  'a 
good  representation  of  life.' 

In  The  West  Indian,  perhaps,  was  a  realization  of 
that  curious  ideal  of  sentimental  comedy  well  phrased 
in  The  Lady's  Magazine  for  January, — 'comedy  in  which 
elegance  of  language,  and  propriety  of  character  are 
happily  united  with  sentiment,  humour,  and  theatrical 
business.'  Because  it  happily  combines  these  qualities  a 
critic  declares  that  The  West  Indian  'may  be  considered 
as  one  of  the  best  that  the  present  times  have  produced,' 
and  The  Lady's  Magazine  prophesies  that  it  'will,  in  all 
probability,  continue  a  favourite  entertainment,  as  long 
as  taste  and  genius  are  encouraged  in  these  kingdoms.' 
A  letter  to  The  Whitehall  Evening  Post  of  February  9, 
signed  'Veritas  Theatrica,'  declares  the  writer's  joy  at 
this  rebirth  of  true  comedy:  'My  breast,  Mr.  Painter,' 
he  says  in  sentimental  vein,  'is  not  superior  to  terror, — 


. 


THE  WEST  INDIAN.— DAVID  GARRICK         77 

my  heart  is,  I  hope,  open  to  sensibility, — my  eye  no 
stranger  to  compassion, — but  at  a  comedy  I  expect  and 
love  to  laugh;  and  I  took  up  the  pen  to  make  my  acknowl- 
edgments to  an  author  who  has  gratified  his  inclina- 
tion,— who  has  introduced  laughter  without  dismissing 
sentiment, — and  who  has  showed  morality  and  mirth  to 
be  far  from  incompatible!'19 

The  West  Indian  soon  became  a  stock  play,  and  its 
continued  popularity  is  made  certain  from  an  account  in 
The  London  Chronicle  of  October  6,  1785,  of  a  per- 
formance 4by  command  of  their  majesties,  who  attended 
the  representation,  accompanied  by  the  Princesses  Royal.' 
'The  presence  of  Royalty,'  says  this  journal,  'was  not  the 
only  attraction;  as  the  peculiar  favourite  of  Thalia  [Miss 
Farren]  was  announced  to  make  her  first  appearance 
this  season  in  the  part  of  Charlotte  Rusport:  the  house 
was  of  course  filled  in  a  very  short  time  after  the  doors 
were  opened,  and  numbers  were  obliged  to  return  home 
much  disappointed  for  want  of  room/ 

Such  comments  prove  clearly  wherein  lay  the  strength 
of  the  characters  of  The  West  Indian.  Psychology  or 
analysis  of  character  was  neither  sought  nor  given.  The 
success  of  Belcour  and  of  the  other  characters  of  the 
play  arose  from  effectiveness  on  the  stage  and  from  their 
sentimental  value.  For  these  were  the  days  of  senti- 
mental comedy,  and  London  audiences  wept  as  tenderly 
for  Hugh  Kelly  and  Cumberland  as  they  had  before 
laughed  lightly  for  Wycherley  and  Congreve.  No  plot 
was  too  inane  if  it  had  a  moral  tone;  no  dialogue  too 
insipid  if  it  abounded  in  platitudes  upon  virtue;  and  no 
character  too  unreal  if  he  or  she  reformed  in  the  last 
act.  To  these  demands  it  may  be  seen  that  Cumberland 

19  See  also  Scot's  Magazine,  February,  1771. 


78  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

was  conforming — more,  that  he  was  unexcelled  in  the 
success  with  which  he  satisfied  them.  But  it  must  be  said 
that  if  he  fulfilled  the  conventional  requirements  of  senti- 
mental drama,  he  also  energized  and  invigorated  the 
empty  forms.  Belcour  and  Major  O'Flaherty  are  supe- 
rior to  the  normal  types  of  sentimental  comedy  character. 

There  were  many  guesses  as  to  the  origin  of  Major 
O'Flaherty,  and  rumour  had  it  that  he  had  been  created 
upon  the  model  of  a  distinguished  Prussian  officer.  'The 
character  of  Major  O'Flaherty,'  says  The  Gentleman's 
Magazine  for  July,  1786,  'in  the  comedy  of  the  West 
Indian,  is  not  a  fictitious  one,  but  copied  from  the  origi- 
nal in  the  person  of  Col.  O'B ne;  who  distinguished 

himself  during  many  years  service  in  the  Austrian  army, 
and  is  now  retired  upon  a  pension  of  about  200  1.  per 
ann.  with  a  brevet  de  colonel.  The  last  time  I  saw  him/ 
says  this  writer,  'was  at  the  court  of  Bruxelles  in 
the  year  1774,  where  he  then  resided,  and  was  much 
respected  both  by  the  noblesse  and  the  military,  who  paid 
him  all  the  honours  due  to  so  brave  and  honest  a  vet- 
eran. .  .  .'  The  sketch  grows  like  Major  O'Flaherty: 
'Disdaining  every  symptom  of  duplicity,  he  was  often  too 
open  and  sincere.  These  qualities,  joined  to  his  gallant 
bravery,  were  always  ready  to  vindicate  any  affront 
offered  to  himself  or  to  his  friends.  .  .  .  He  stood  for- 
ward the  arbiter  of  disputes,  the  mediator  in  quarrels 
...  he  immediately  espoused  the  cause  of  the  injured  or 
insulted,  and  made  himself  a  second  where  he  could  not 
be  admitted  as  principal.  .  .  .  He  was  a  chearful  com- 
panion, a  solid  friend,  and  of  a  generous  spirit;  but  an 
implacable  enemy  to  every  species  of  meanness.  .  .  . ' 

King  O'Burne,  as  he  was  called,  and  Major  O'Flaherty 
are  very  much  alike,  but,  if  Cumberland  had  the  Prus- 


THE  WEST  INDIAN.— DAVID  GARRICK         79 

sian  in  mind,  he  said  nothing  of  it  in  the  Memoirs.  'For 
my  Irishman,'  he  writes,  'I  had  a  scheme.  ...  I  put 
him  into  the  Austrian  service,  and  exhibited  him  in  the 
livery  of  a  foreign  master.  ...  I  gave  him  courage,  for 
it  belongs  to  his  nation;  I  endowed  him  with  honour,  for 
it  belongs  to  his  profession,  and  I  made  him  proud, 
jealous,  susceptible.  .  .  . '*'  O'Flaherty  is  a  figure 
stuffed  with  many  kinds  of  straw.  A  quarrel  with  a 
proud  Irishman  'helped  me,'  says  Cumberland,  'to 
another  feature  in  my  sketch  of  Major  O'Flaherty,'  and 
at  another  time  he  wrote  Garrick:  'Perhaps  I  shall  be 
able  to  recruit  the  character  of  O'Flaherty  with  some 
natural  touches  from  the  county  of  Galway.21  For  his 
phraseology,'  Cumberland  adds,  'I  had  the  glossary 
ready  at  my  hand;  for  his  mistakes  and  trips,  vulgarly 
called  bulls,  I  did  not  know  the  Irishman  of  the  stage 
then  existing,  whom  I  would  wish  to  make  my  model; 
their  gross  absurdities,  and  unnatural  contrarieties  have 
not  a  shade  of  character  in  them.  When  his  imagina- 
tion is  warmed,  and  his  ideas  rush  upon  him  in  a  cluster, 
'tis  then  the  Irishman  will  sometimes  blunder;  his  fancy 
having  supplied  more  words  than  his  tongue  can  well 
dispose  of,  it  will  occasionally  trip.  .  .  .' 

The  Major  suffered  severely  on  the  score  of  morality: 
'The  Irishman  can  do  no  mischief,'  says  The  Gentleman's 
Magazine  for  February,  'for  the  absurdity  of  supposing 
a  man  to  be  other  than  a  scoundrel,  who  practices  the 

20  The   August   issue   of    The    Gentleman's   Magazine   has    additional 
comment  upon  Colonel  O'Burne:  '.    .    .  I  am  personally  acquainted  with 
Colonel  O'Burne,'  says  the  writer,  'and  have  had  frequent  conversations 
with  him  relative  to  his  long  life  and  gallant  actions  in  the  service  of 
the  Empress  Queen.  .   .   .  The  Colonel  is  still  at  Brussels,  where  he  is  so 
much  caressed  that  it  was  but  seldom  I  could  prevail  upon  him  to  eat 
his  soup  with  me.     He  is  called  King  O'Burne.' 

21  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.387. 


So  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

basest  and  the  most  cruel  of  all  frauds,  by  which  youth 
and  innocence  are  robbed  of  peace  and  fortune,  is  too 
gross  to  be  adopted  by  the  weakest  or  most  profligate 
wretch  upon  earth.'  The  Town  and  Country  Magazine 
for  January  was  shocked  at  the  Major's  coarse  'bulls'; 
The  Lady's  Magazine  for  the  same  month  denounced 
him  as  'low,  trivial,  and  vulgar';  and  he  was  generally 
written  down  as  a  violator  of  all  sentimental  propriety. 
To  The  London  Magazine  for  January,  1771,  he  was 
'the  Irish  officer  in  Love  A-la-mode,22  only  without  a  for- 
tune.' Davies  likewise  attacks  O'Flaherty  as  being 
without  originality  or  morality.  'O  Flarty,'  says  he, 
'.  •  .  is  no  invention  of  the  author;  Sir  Callochan 
Obrallachan  is  the  model  from  which  he  took  the  Irish 
Major;  nor  would  Mr.  Macklin  have  made  his  honest 
Hibernian  act  so  absurdly  and  dishonourably  as  O  Flarty, 
who  insists  upon  Dudley's  complying  with  the  contents 
of  a  letter  at  the  hazard  of  both  their  lives,  though  he 
does  not  know  a  syllable  contained  in  that  letter.  The 
avowing  his  marrying  five  wives,  whom  he  believes  all  to 
be  alive  and  merry,  is  a  shocking  derogation  from 
O  Flarty's  character  of  a  man  of  worth:  the  words  a  la 
militaire  were  substituted  by  the  actor,  who  thought,  very 
judiciously,  that  the  avowal  of  bigamy  was  too  gross 
without  a  salvo.'23 

22  Love  a  la  Mode,  a  farce  by  Charles  Macklin,  was  brought  out  at 
Drury  Lane  Theatre  in  1759. 

23  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  David  Garrick,  2.267-8.    Major  O'Flaherty's 
error  referred  to  in  Davies's  last  sentence  was  censured  by  Nugent  Lord 
Clare   [Memoirs,  1.306]:  'His   lordship  was  contented  with  the   play  in 
general,  but  he  could  not  relish  the  five  wives  of  O'Flaherty:  they  were 
four  too  many  'for  an  honest  man,  and  the  over-abundance  of  them  hurt 
his  lordship's  feelings;  I  thought  I  could  not  have  a  better  criterion  for 
the  feelings  of  other  people,  and  desired  Moody  to  manage  the  matter  as 
well  as  he  could.' 


THE  WEST  INDIAN.— DAVID  GARRICK         Si 

Perhaps  the  most  hypercritical  judgment  of  Major 
O'Flaherty  was  given  one  evening  at  Mrs.  Montagu's 
by  Lord  Lyttleton.  This  gentleman  objected  to  the 
the  Major's  hiding  for  the  purpose  of  overhearing  Var- 
land's  soliloquy.  'I  consider  listening,'  said  the  peer,  'as 
a  resource  never  to  be  allowed  in  any  pure  drama,  or 
ought  any  good  author  to  make  use  of  it.'  Cumberland 
longed  to  reply,  but  he  lacked  courage,  and  Lord  Lyttle- 
ton was  answered  only  in  the  Memoirs. 

All  this  is  taking  the  Major  too  seriously,  and  large 
audiences,  troubled  little  about  his  dramatic  or  moral 
faults,  came  to  see  'Dennis  O'Flaherty  who  for  this  month 
has  filled  the  theatre  with  repeated  convulsions  of 
laughter!'24 

To  see  clearly  in  the  mind's  eye  an  acting  performance 
of  The  West  Indian  is  to  know  much  of  Cumberland, 
and  of  his  time.  No  effort,  no  thought,  had  been  spared 
by  Garrick  and  the  dramatist  to  make  the  play  act.  For 
the  part  of  Belcour  had  been  selected  Thomas  King, 
actor  and  dramatist.  The  career  of  King,  an  idol  of  the 
people,  had  been  striking.  Engaged  by  Garrick  for 
Drury  Lane  in  1748,  his  first  role  had  been  the  Herald 
in  King  Lear.  During  the  half  century  in  which  he  acted 
he  played  no  less  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  characters, 
including  all  important  comedy  parts.  Most  of  all  he 
was  famed  as  Sir  Peter  Teazle  in  The  School  for  Scandal. 
Yet,  from  all  evidence,  the  role  of  Belcour  was  the 
least  fortunate  on  the  opening  night.  King  was  not 
altogether  successful  in  the  role  of  the  young  free- 
lance. Mrs.  Inchbald  says:  'King  was  the  original 
Belcour;  and,  strange  to  say,  that  although  the  play  had 
brilliant  success,  the  hero  was  not  properly  represented. 

24  The  Critical  Review,  February,  1771. 


82  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

King  was,  at  that  time,  about  fifty  years  of  age,  and 
looked  to  be  so — he  had  other  impediments  to  prevent 
his  exactly  personating  the  young,  high-spirited,  open- 
hearted,  inconsiderate  West  Indian.'25' 

Since  the  character  of  Major  O'Flaherty  was  largely 
dependant  upon  good  acting,  the  impersonator  of  the 
role  was  selected  with  care.  The  two  actors  considered 
were  Spranger  Barry  and  John  Moody.  It  was  a  diffi- 
cult choice.  Barry's  greatness  was  unquestioned  in  all 
but  heroic  parts,  and  he  was  thought  by  many  to  be  the 
peer  of  Garrick.  'Garrick,'  says  Francis  Gentleman, 
author  of  The  Dramatic  Censor,  'commanded  most 
applause,  Barry  most  tears.'  According  to  another 
writer  Barry  was  possessed  of  a  figure  which  one  could 
not  conceive  'more  perfect,'  and  a  voice  'the  harmony 
and  melody  of  whose  silver  tones  were  resistless.'  On 
the  other  hand,  Moody  by  his  native  comic  genius  seemed 
created  for  the  part.  Cumberland  himself  preferred 
Barry,  though  he  did  not  think  fit  to  urge  his  plea 
strongly.  Proof  of  his  inclination  towards  Barry  may 
be  had  in  a  letter  to  Garrick.  Writing  him  from  Kildare 
Street  on  July  4,  1771,  he  says:  'I  am  wishing  that  Barry 
could  get  up  the  part  of  O'Flaherty,  and  she  [Mrs. 
Barry]  that  of  Miss  Rusport,  and  though  I  shall  not  sig- 
nify my  wish  to  them  after  what  has  passed  from  Mr. 
Barry  on  the  same  subject  ...  yet  I  am  privately  told 
they  will  privately  get  it  up  ...  They  are  very  angry  with 
Moody  .  .  .  and  indeed,  between  us,  he  committed  some 
wanton  follies  under  the  name  of  O'Flaherty.'26  Cum- 
berland describes  Garrick's  perplexity,  and  final  decision 
for  Moody:  'Barry  was  extremely  anxious  to  play  the 

25  The  British  Theatre,  18,  'Prefatory  Remarks  to  "The  West  Indian."  ' 

26  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.426. 


THE  WEST  INDIAN.— DAVID  GARRICK         83 

part  of  the  Irish  Major,  and  Garrick  was  very  doubtful 
how  to  decide,  for  Moody  was  then  an  actor  little  known 
and  at  a  low  salary.  ...  I  remember  Garrick  after  long 
deliberation  gave  his  decree  for  Moody  with  considerable 
repugnance;  qualifying  his  preference  of  the  latter  with 
reasons,  that  in  no  respect  reflected  on  the  merits  of  Mr. 
Barry — but  he  did  not  quite  see  him  in  the  whole  part 
of  O'Flaherty;  there  were  certain  points  of  humour, 
where  he  thought  it  likely  he  might  fail,  and  in  that  case 
his  failure,  like  his  name,  would  be  more  conspicuous  than 
Moody's.' 

Moody  made  a  success  of  the  part.  'To  crown  the 
hopes  of  his  rising  reputation,'  says  an  old  book  of  dra- 
matic annals,  The  Thespian  Dictionary,  'he  was  reserved 
for  Major  O'Flaherty  in  the  last  new  comedy  of  The 
West  Indian;  a  character  he  has  supported  with  such 
judgment,  and  masterly  execution,  as  to  divide  applause 
with  the  author  by  making  a  subordinate  character 
(though  not  the  hero  of  the  fable)  the  hero  of  the 
audience.'2"1 

Insipid  has  been  applied  to  the  drama  of  the  eight- 
eenth century  as  often  as  artificial  to  the  whole  literature 
of  the  period.  But  imagine  a  performance  of  The  West 
Indian  quickened  by  the  genius  of  King  and  Barry.  In 
commenting  upon  the  brilliance  of  sentimental  comedy  on 
the  stage,  and  upon  the  success  of  Mr.  Douglass's  Ameri- 
can company  in  these  plays,  Seilhamer  makes  a  strong 
appeal  for  the  old  drama :  'This  list  of  productions  new 
and  old,  must  be  acknowledged  as  extraordinary.  It 
included  the  best  of  the  English  dramatists  from  Shakes- 

27  The  Thespian  Dictionary,  or  Dramatic  Biography  of  the  Eighteenth 
Century.  See  also  Memoirs  of  Tate  Wilkinson,  2.97:  'Mr.  Moody's 
O'Flaherty,  and  many  principal  comic  characters  have  been,  and  are 
still,  felt  and  remembered.  .  .  .' 


84  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

peare  to  Kelly  and  Cumberland.  With  the  single  excep- 
tion of  Shakespeare  the  works  of  all  these  playwrights 
have  been  banished  from  the  stage.  .  .  .  Neither  Gibber 
nor  Farquhar,  nor  Rowe,  Lee  nor  Whitehead,  Steele  nor 
Macklin,  Foote  nor  Garrick,  Murphy  nor  Colman,  Bick- 
erstaff  nor  O'Hara,  Kelly  nor  Cumberland  has  been 
accorded  a  revival  since  early  in  the  century.  .  .  .  There 
is  no  actress  on  the  English  speaking  stage  capable  of 
playing  these  high  comedy  roles.  No  living  manager, 
except  Augustin  Daly  has  sufficient  knowledge  of  stage- 
business  to  produce  one  of  these  masterpieces  of  the  last 
century.  If  "A  Word  to  the  Wise"  or  the  "Fashionable 
Lover"  was  to  be  played  by  any  company  except  his,  it 
would  be  so  utterly  lacking  in  the  flavour  of  the  old 
school  that  we  should  think  our  grandfathers  were  sat- 
isfied with  very  insipid  stuff.  And  yet  were  it  possible 
to  realize,  even  in  imagination,  the  performances  of  Mr. 
Douglass'  company  for  a  season,  we  should  learn  how 
completely  the  Nineteenth  century  has  failed  to  realize 
the  dramatic  promise  of  the  Eighteenth.'28 

Of  Mrs.  Abington's29  performance  of  the  heroine 
many  records  have  come  down  to  us.  The  enormous 
success  of  this  actress  in  Dublin  had  induced  Garrick  to 
again  bring  her  to  London,  and  for  a  number  of  years 
she  had  pleased  the  town  as  Beatrice,  Lady  Townley, 
Lady  Betty  Modish,  and  Millamant.  She  was  still  to 
Walpole  'the  very  person,'  and  to  Garrick  'the  worst  of 
bad  women.'  Mrs.  Abington's  acceptance  of  the  role 
of  Charlotte  Rusport  was  thought  a  condescension,  since 
she  'would  not  allow  it  to  be  anything  but  a  sketch,'  but 

28  Seilhamer,  History  of  the  American  Theatre,  1.298-9. 

29  Among  Cumberland's  letters  in  the  British  Museum  are  three  written 
[after  1781]  to  Mrs.  [Frances]  Abington  upon  theatrical  business. 


THE  WEST  INDIAN.— DAVID  GARRICK         85 

her  triumph  was  immediate  and  lasting.  A  letter  to  The 
Whitehall  Evening  Post  of  February  9  gives  a  lively 
description  of  her  Charlotte  Rusport.  'Mrs.  Abington,' 
says  her  admirer,  'is  inimitable.  I  have  seen  this  lady 
with  much  pleasure  in  all  the  humorous  parts  of  Comedy 
not  even  surpassed  by  Give30  herself.  I  have  seen  her 
at  other  times  representing  so  naturally  the  sprightly 
levity  of  a  young  lady  of  fashion,  as  to  lead  me  almost 
to  conceive  she  had  spent  her  whole  life  in  the  politest 
circles.  In  the  play  before  us,  though  the  Poet  has  not 
drawn  her  character  in  the  stile  of  the  lively  comic,  yet 
she  gives  it  such  a  spirit  in  some  passages,  that  one  would 
suppose  she  had  been  cast  into  the  part  of  Miss  Rusport 
merely  to  shew  the  town  that  her  powers  in  comedy  are 
unlimited.  With  elegance  of  person  and  deportment, 
livelyness  of  manner,  and  a  perfect  understanding  of 
everything  she  undertakes,  she  never  fails  of  contenting 
her  audience,  and  of  impressing  them  with  the  deepest 
sense  of  her  extraordinary  abilities.'  The  success  of  the 
piece,  and  Mrs.  Abington's  fame  as  Charlotte  Rusport 
were  strongly  augmented  by  her  rendering  of  the  epi- 
logue, a  clever  bit  of  whimsicality  from  Garrick's  pen. 
'The  Prologue  and  Epilogue,  which  are  excellently 
adapted  to  the  Play/  says  The  British  Chronicle  of 
January  30,  'were  spoken  by  Mr.  Reddish  and  Mrs. 
Abington,  whose  comic  powers  were  finely  displayed  in 
the  latter,  by  the  recital  of  the  Young  Miss's  Catechism, 
in  which  the  manners  of  a  Woman  of  Fashion  in  Queen 
Elizabeth's  age,  are  humourously  compared  with  those  of 
our  modern  fine  ladies.' 

30  The  famous  Kitty  Clive  was  engaged  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre  about 
1728  by  Colley  Cibber.  Her  comic  genius  won  her  instant  success.  She 
enjoyed  the  friendship  of  Garrick  and  Walpole. 


86  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

The  comparison  of  the  unlucky  subjects  of  Queen 
Elizabeth  with  those  of  George  the  Third  ran  in  part: 

Don't  snarl  and  sigh  for  good  Queen  Bess's  days; 
For  all  you  look  so  sour  and  bend  the  brow, 
You  all  rejoice  with  me  you're  living  now. 

No  play  of  Cumberland's  and  few  of  the  age  furnished 
roles  for  so  many  distinguished  actors  and  actresses  as 
The  West  Indian.  The  second  player  of  Belcour  was 
William  Thomas  Lewis,  famed  as  actor  and  manager 
and  universally  known  as  'Gentleman  Lewis.'  He  is 
described  by  Cooke,  the  actor,  as  'the  unrivalled  favourite 
of  the  comic  muse  in  all  that  was  frolic,  gay,  humourous, 
whimsical,  and  at  the  same  time  elegant';  Hazlitt  writes 
of  'gay,  fluttering,  hare-brained  Lewis,  ...  all  life  and 
fashion  and  volubility  and  whim,  the  greatest  comic 
mannerist  perhaps  that  ever  lived.'  As  Belcour  Lewis 
was  very  successful,  and  undoubtedly  pleased  Cumberland 
better  than  King.  'I  am  firmly  of  the  opinion,'  he  wrote 
to  Garrick  in  1771,  'the  lad  has  faculties  to  make  a  figure 
in  comedy,'31  a  prediction  verified,  for  the  dramatic  re- 
viewer of  The  London  Chronicle  wrote  a  dozen  years 
later:  'Lewis's  Belcour  has  long  been  admired,  but  never 
more  deservedly  than  last  night.'32  Major  O'Flaherty 
was  later  played  by  'Irish'  Johnstone,  renowned  as  Sir 
Lucius  O'Trigger,  and  as  Brulgruddery  in  The  Commit- 
tee, and  by  Edward  Shuter,  the  stock  actor  for  such  char- 
acters as  Scrub,  Master  Stephen,  and  Launcelot.  Char- 
lotte Rusport  was  rendered  occasionally  by  'the  lovely 
and  accomplished  Farren,'  an  actress  revered  by  Cum- 
berland. 'Miss  Farren,'  says  Mrs.  Crouch  in  her  Mem- 

31  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.43. 

32  The  London  Chronicle,  October  6,  1785. 


THE  WEST  INDIAN.— DAVID  GARRICK         87 

oirs,  'looked  charmingly  in  the  lively  and  elegant  Char- 
lotte Rusport.'33 

The  West  Indian  was  acted  throughout  Europe  and  in 
America.  It  was  translated  into  many  languages,  includ- 
ing the  Bohemian.  The  play's  popularity  persisted  dur- 
ing the  rest  of  the  eighteenth  century,  and  it  was 
frequently  revived  in  the  nineteenth.  No  historian  of 
the  British  theatre  may  ignore  The  West  Indian.  In 
this  play  Cumberland  achieved  dramatic  effects  which 
he  never  afterwards  equalled,  and  by  it  he  gained  a 
secure  if  not  an  eminent  place  in  British  drama. 

33  Memoirs  of  Mrs.  Crouch,  1.166. 


CHAPTER  VI 
THE  FASHIONABLE  LOVER 

rflHE  unceasing  popularity  of  The  West  Indian  might 
-*•  well  have  maintained  Cumberland's  reputation  for  a 
season,  for  his  position  as  a  successful  dramatist  was 
now  unquestioned.  But  his  ambitions  were  still  unsatis- 
fied. The  theatrical  battle  was  unending;  Cumber- 
land's victories,  if  decisive,  had  not  been  many,  and  there 
were  mighty  rivals  in  the  field.  It  may  even  be  believed 
that  in  these  days  of  hope  he  had  dreams  of  a  time  when 
he  should  brook  no  dramatic  rival.  Moreover,  from 
his  youth  Cumberland  had  never  been  long  idle.  Even 
when  engaged  upon  The  West  Indian  he  was  working 
over  other  plays.  Early  in  July,  1771,  he  writes  Gar- 
rick  that  a  'growing  comedy,'  The  Fashionable  Lover,  is 
under  way.  This,  he  declares  to  his  friend,  'comes  out 
purified  by  your  fiery  trial,  and  less  drossy  than  it  would 
otherwise  have  been.  .  .  .  This  will  be  ready  in  time  if 
it  pleases  God  I  have  my  health.'1 

In  addition,  the  manuscript  of  Timon  of  Athens  had 
been  retouched,  and  Cumberland  now  hoped  that  Gar- 
rick  would  accept  it.  'I  am  looking  homewards,'  he 
writes  to  his  manager  from  Clonfert,  'but  if  accident  or 
illness  either  to  self,  family  or  friends,  clogs  my  chariot- 
wheels  in  my  return  to  you,  father,  I  beseech  you,  favour 
my  half-begotten  brat,  called  "Timon";  give  him  a  good 

1  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.427. 


THE  FASHIONABLE  LOVER  89 

coat  on  his  back,  and  send  him  into  the  world  like  a 
gentleman's  son.'2  There  is  no  reason  to  think  that 
Garrick  thought  more  highly  of  this  adaptation  than 
when  he  had  rejected  it  three  years  before,  but  the  author 
of  The  West  Indian  was  not  as  easily  refused  as  a  dram- 
atist unknown  to  fame.  The  actor  must  have  weak- 
ened, or  have  made  one  of  his  efficient  condensations,  for 
three  weeks  later  Cumberland  writes  to  thank  him  for  his 
'approbation.'  'I  flatter  myself,'  he  says,  'Timon  will 
open  the  season  successfully  and  brilliantly.'3 

Timon  of  Athens  was  acted  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre  on 
December  4,  1771.  The  hopes  of  Cumberland,  and  of 
Garrick,  if  he  shared  them,  were  not  realized,  and  Doctor 
Hoadley  was  forced  to  comfort  Garrick  with  his  opinion 
that  Lucius,  the  miserly  senator  in  the  play,  was  'truly 
Shakespearian.'4  Walpole  saw  the  piece,  and  has  a 
characteristic  comment:  'There  is  a  new  Timon  of 
Athens,  altered  from  Shakspeare  by  Mr.  Cumberland, 
and  marvellously  well  done,  for  he  has  caught  the  man- 
ners and  diction  of  the  original  so  exactly,  that  I  think 
it  is  full  as  bad  a  play  as  it  was  before  he  corrected  it.'5 
The  remark  of  Doran,  the  dramatic  historian,  that  in 
the  play  were  'more  of  Cumberland  and  less  of  Shakes- 
peare than  the  public  could  welcome,'6  has  less  wit  but 
more  truth.  Cumberland  was  doubtless  hindered  by 
being  forced  to  compete  with  another  adaptation  of  the 
play.  Thomas  Shadwell's  version  of  Timon  of  Athens 
had  been  acted  in  1678,  and  had  achieved  some  success. 

2  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.434. 

3  Ibid.,  1.427. 

4  Ibid.,  1.448. 

5  Letters  of  Horace  Walpole,  Toynbee  ed.,  8.117. 

6  History  of  the  Stage,  2.68. 


go  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Of  his  drama  the  author  is  reported  to  have  said,  after 
a  respectful  tribute  to  Shakespeare:  'I  can  truly  say  that 
I  have  made  it  into  a  play.' 

Cumberland's  alterations,  briefly  stated,  consisted  in 
the  omission  of  original  scenes,  the  deletion  of  particular 
passages,  and  the  substitution  of  new  for  old  characters. 
The  fifth  act  is  Cumberland's.  Phyrnia  and  Timandra 
do  not  appear  in  the  play,  and  Timon  is  given  a  daughter, 
Evanthe,  beloved  by  Alcibiades.  Cumberland  asserts 
that  'the  entire  part  of  Evanthe,  and,  with  very  few 
exceptions,  the  whole  of  Alcibiades  are  new.' 

A  'lame  and  wretched  alteration,'7  says  Arthur 
Murphy,  and  Davies  in  a  long  critique  declares  it  'a  mis- 
erable alteration  of  one  of  Shakespeare's  noblest  produc- 
tions.' 'It  is  almost  impossible,'  says  this  enemy  of  Cum- 
berland's, 'to  graft  large  branches  upon  the  old  stock 
of  Shakespeare;  none  have  succeeded  in  their  alterations 
of  that  poet,  but  such  as  have  confined  themselves  to  the 
lopping  off  a  few  superfluous  boughs,  and  adding,  where 
necessary,  some  small  slips  of  their  own,  and  that  too 
with  the  utmost  care  and  caution.'8  Davies  denies  that 
the  play  is  equal  to  Shadwell's  Timon  of  Athens.  'Mr. 
Cumberland  has,  by  his  management,  utterly  destroyed 
all  pity  for  the  principal  character  of  the  play.  Shadwell 
gave  Timon  a  mistress,  who  never  forsook  him  in  his 
distress;  but  Mr.  Cumberland  has  raised  him  up  a  daugh- 
ter, whose  fortune  the  father  profusely  spends  on  flat- 
terers and  sycophants:  this  destroys  all  probability,  as 
well  as  extinguishes  commiseration.  What  generous  and 
noble  minded  man,  as  Shakespeare  has  drawn  his  Timon, 
would  be  guilty  of  such  baseness,  as  to  wrong  his  child, 

7  Life  of  David  Garrick,  2.89. 

8  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  David  Garrick,  2.268-70. 


THE  FASHIONABLE  LOVER  91 

by  treating  his  visitors  with  the  wealth  that  should  be 
reserved  for  her  portion?'9 

The  summer  preceding  the  acting  of  Timon  of  Athens 
had  also  seen  the  completion  of  The  Fashionable  Lover. 
Garrick's  faith  in  Cumberland  was  strong,  and  he  hoped 
that  The  Fashionable  Lover  might  outdo  The  West 
Indian.  On  May  9,  1771,  he  wrote  Doctor  Hoadley: 
'There  is  great  Merit,  &  for  ye  faults,  he  shall  mend  'Em 
in  his  next  play,  which  he  certainly  will  do,  if  he  goes  on 
improving  as  he  did  from  ye  Brothers  (his  first  play)  to 
his  last,  the  West  Indian.'™ 

In  composing  The  West  Indian  Cumberland  worked 
intensely,  yet  distrustfully,  for  his  powers  were  untried, 
and  Garrick's  hand  was  everywhere  upon  the  play.  But 
his  next  play,  The  Fashionable  Lover,  written  near  the 
apex  of  his  fame,  aimed  not  to  attain  success,  but  to 
perpetuate  it,  and  Cumberland  composed  with  the  con- 
sciousness of  past  achievement.  'I  was  aware,'  he  says, 
4I  had  some  little  fame  at  stake,  and  bestowed  my  utmost 
care  and  attention  upon  the  writing  of  this  comedy.'  In 
August,  1771,  Cumberland  had  gone  to  Clonfert  'to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  unsophisticated  Nature.'  'I  would,' 
he  declares  to  Garrick,  'fain  do  something  for  you  that 
should  live:  I  write  with  double  zeal,  because  I  think  I 
am  in  some  degree  serving  your  fame  as  well  as  my  own ; 
and  I  proceed  with  confidence,  because  I  know  my  pro- 
duction, if  it  can  pass  your  scrutiny,  must  make  its  way 
with  the  public.'11 

Cumberland's  excessive  sensibility  is  apparent  in  the 

9  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  David  Garrick,  2.268-70. 

10  Some  Unpublished  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  45. 

11  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.430. 


92  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

letters  to  Garrick  at  this  period.  The  last  letter  quoted 
has  a  warmly  tinted  signature,  and  in  the  letter  of  August 
5  the  author  speaks  from  a  rather  shallow  rill  of  emo- 
tion. He  praises  the  time  when  '  "The  West  Indian" 
gave  me  your  regard,  and  bestowed  all  mine  upon  you/ 
and  adds  with  some  hyperbole  that  'it  did  more  for  me 
than  the  best  production  ever  did  for  its  author  before.'12 

In  a  letter  to  Garrick,  written  on  September  8,  he 
announces  the  completion  of  The  Fashionable  Lover. 
With  his  usual  adulation  of  his  patron  he  says:  'I  have 
looked  for  you  amongst  our  bogs,  and  sometimes  in  a 
brighter  moment  I  have  seen  you.  It  is  then  I  have 
pleased  myself;  it  is  then  my  Muse  has  been  my  favour- 
ite ;  and  at  length  I  have  completed  my  work.  You  ask, 
does  it  please  me?  I  tell  you,  with  sincerity  that  does 
not  fear  the  imputation  of  vanity,  that  it  does  please  me, 
and  very  highly.  I  have  an  internal  plaudit  that  sancti- 
fies my  effort,  and  I  am  satisfied  I  shall  put  into  your 
hands  a  work  more  worthy  your  protection  than  any  I 
have  yet  committed  to  the  public.'13 

Cumberland  boasts  that  he  was  famous  after  the  pro- 
duction of  The  West  Indian,  and  in  December,  1771, 
a  confused  rumour  was  abroad  that  the  dramatist  was 
preparing  a  new  play.  'A  New  Comedy,'  says  Lloyd's 
Evening  Post  of  December  7,  'written  by  Mr.  Cumber- 
land, called  the  East  Indian,  the  hero  of  which  is  a 
Scotchman,  and  is  to  be  performed  by  Mr.  Moody,  is  in 
rehearsal  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre.'  Likewise,  The 
Whitehall  Evening  Post  of  January  14  says:  'It  has  been 
given  out  to  the  Public,  that  the  hero  of  the  Fashionable 

*2  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.430. 
13  Ibid.,  1.434.    At  Garrick's  advice  Cumberland  excluded  two  charac- 
ters from  the  play. 


THE  FASHIONABLE  LOVER  93 

Lover  .  .  .  was  an  East  Indian,  a  surmise  which  prob- 
ably took  rise  from  its  being  the  production  of  the  same 
hand  which  wrote  the  West  Indian;  but  it  does  appear 
upon  rehearsal,  that  the  fable  is  entirely  domestic,  with- 
out any  allusion  whatever  to  the  East  Indies  throughout 
the  piece.' 

The  basic  idea  of  The  Fashionable  Lover  had  been 
suggested  to  Cumberland  one  evening  at  the  British 
Coffee-House  in  a  gathering  of  friends.  At  one  of  the 
meetings  of  this  circle,  perhaps  in  the  presence  of  Foote, 
Garrick,  and  Goldsmith,  someone  declared  that  the  suc- 
cess of  the  West  Indian  and  the  Irishman  should  be  con- 
tinued in  the  role  of  a  'North-Briton.'14  Cumberland's 
objection  had  been  that  opportunities  such  as  made 
O'Flaherty  possible  were  lacking.  But  the  idea  took 
root,  and  soon  'I  began,'  he  says,  'to  frame  the  character 
of  Colin  Macleod  upon  the  model  of  a  Highland  servant, 
who  with  scrupulous  integrity,  and  a  great  deal  of  nation- 
ality about  him,  managed  all  the  domestic  affairs  of  Sir 
Thomas  Mills's15  household.  .  .  .  With  no  other  guide 
for  the  dialect  of  my  Macleod  than  what  the  Scotch  char- 

14  Cumberland  records  a  conversation  which  reflects  the  spirit  of  the 
meetings  at  the  British  Coffee-House.     In  reply  to  Cumberland's  objec- 
tion to  drawing  a   Scotch  character,  Titzherbert  observed:  "How  could 
that  be,  when  I  [Cumberland]  was  in  the  very  place  to  find  it"  (alluding 
to  the  British  Coffee-House  and  the  company  we  were  in),  "however," 
he   added,   "give  your   Scotchman  character,    and   take   your   chance   for 
dialect.     If  you  bring  a  Roman  on  the  stage,  you  don't  make  him  speak 

Latin  "     "No,  no,"  cried  Foote,  "and  if  you  don't  make  him  wear 

breeches  Garrick  will  be  much  obliged  to  you.    When  I  was  at  Stranraer 
I  went  to  the  Kirk,  where  the  Miss- John  was  declaiming  most  furiously 
against  luxury,  and,  as  heaven  shall  judge  me,  there  was  not  a  pair  of 
shoes  in  the  whole  congregation." ' 

15  Sir    Thomas    Mills    introduced    Cumberland    to    the    circle    at    the 
British  Coffee-House. 


94  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

acters  of  the  stage  supplied  me  with,  I  endowed  him 
with  a  good  heart,  and  sent  him  to  seek  his  fortune.' 

On  January  20,  1772,  it  was  made  clear  at  Drury  Lane 
Theatre  that  The  Fashionable  Lover  had  no  connection 
with  The  West  Indian.  Here  the  audience  heard  Lord 
Abberville,  'man  of  the  first  fashion/  reveal  to  Doctor 
Druid  his  plan  for  the  seduction  of  Augusta  Aubrey. 
Augusta  is  the  ward  of  Bridgemore,  with  whom  she  lives, 
together  with  his  wife,  and  his  daughter,  Lucinda. 
Having  forced  an  entrance  to  Miss  Aubrey's  room, 
Abberville  is  discovered  by  Lucinda  in  the  very  act  of 
paying  his  unwelcome  attentions  to  the  lady.  Lucinda, 
who  is  partial  to  Abberville,  upbraids  Miss  Aubrey,  and 
the  latter,  deeply  distressed,  leaves  the  family.  While 
Tyrrel,  Miss  Aubrey's  lover,  searches  for  her,  she  is 
found  by  the  kindly  Colin  Macleod,  and  put  into  the  care 
of,  as  Colin  supposes,  a  friendly  Scotchwoman.  This 
lady,  however,  proves  to  be  Lord  Abberville's  procuress, 
and  Miss  Aubrey  is  again  confronted  by  her  gallant.  She 
is  opportunely  rescued  by  Mortimer,  a  benevolent  uncle 
of  Tyrrel's,  by  Tyrrel  himself,  and  by  the  ubiquitous 
Colin.  The  rest  of  the  play  deals  with  the  exposure  of 
Bridgemore's  wrongs  to  Miss  Aubrey,  the  sudden  return 
of  her  father,  and  the  repentance  of  Lord  Abberville. 
'Yours,'  says  he  to  Tyrrel,  'is  the  road  to  happiness;  I 
have  been  lost  in  error,  but  I  shall  trace  your  steps  and 
overtake  you.'16 

This  story  pleased  all  true  lovers  of  sentimental 
comedy,  and  Mrs.  Delany  at  once  wrote  Mr.  Post  that 
'the  play  was  very  sentimental  and  pretty.'17  At  first 
blush  The  Fashionable  Lover  seemed  destined  to  replace 

18  The  Fashionable  Lover,  5.1. 

17  Autobiography,  and  Correspondence  of  Mary  Granville,  Mrs. 
Delany,  4.409. 


London  Jruxted for  JBell^ritilbLibrajry.Strmnd. JanTia  1733 


THE  FASHIONABLE  LOVER   95 

The  West  Indian  in  the  popular  esteem.  'On  this  occa- 
sion/ says  The  London  Review  for  February,  'Cumber- 
land has  not  fallen  short  of  his  former  essays.  Upon 
the  whole,  we  think  The  Fashionable  Lover  no  despicable 
effort  of  genius/  Similarly  The  St.  James  Chronicle  of 
January  21  says  that  The  Fashionable  Lover  'seems  by 
no  means  likely  to  yield  to  the  piece  above  mentioned  in 
Merit  or  Success.  .  .  .' 

Other  accounts,  however,  deny  the  success  of  the  first 
night's  performance,  and  attribute  the  final  popularity 
of  the  play  to  shrewd  changes  made  in  the  plot:  'This 
piece/  says  Biographia  Dramatica,  'followed  The  West 
Indian  too  soon  to  increase  the  reputation  of  its  author. 
It  was  coldly  received  the  first  night;  but  undergo- 
ing some  judicious  alterations,  improved  in  the  public 
favour.'18  The  Town  and  Country  Magazine  for 
January  testifies  that  The  Fashionable  Lover  failed  to 
attain  the  unqualified  success  of  The  West  Indian. 
'Many  of  the  critics,'  the  reviewer  says,  'were  very  severe 
upon  this  piece  on  the  first  night's  representation.  Some 
were  of  opinion  that  it  was  destitute  of  the  rules  of 
comedy,  and  that  it  should  with  more  propriety  be  called 
a  dramatic  tale.  .  .  .  That  there  was  some  foundation 
for  these  criticisms,  we  acknowledge,  though  they  were 
much  exaggerated  by  Mr.  Cumberland's  enemies;  but  by 
the  judicious  alterations  made  at  the  representations  of 
his  friends,  on  the  second  night,  particularly  with  regard 
to  its  unpopular  passages,  which  were  entirely  omitted, 
it  is  now  not  only  a  very  unexceptionable  piece,  but  there 
is  reason  to  think  its  merit  must  secure  it  the  approbation 
of  the  town,  and  a  long  run,  as  it  contains  many  striking 
beauties.' 

18  Biographia  Dramatica,  3.223. 


96  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

The  Whitehall  Evening  Post  of  January  22  stated 
that  'the  unpopular  passages'  were  political  ones,  and 
that  the  play  met  with  definite  opposition  on  the  first 
night:  'This  Piece,'  the  critique  runs,  'some  thought  to 
have  been  written  from  some  political  view,  as  the  Scotch 
are,  in  a  manner,  deified  at  the  expence  of  the  English, 
and  several  indecent  reflections  were  occasionally  thrown 
out  against  the  Citizens  of  London,  one  of  which,  in  the 
first  Act,  concerning  the  dignity  of  Tradesmen  .  .  . 
created  an  almost  general  hiss,  and  had  well  nigh  stopped 
the  procedure  of  the  Performance.  The  author  profited 
from  the  hints  next  night,  by  judiciously  pruning,  or 
taking  away,  every  thing  that  seemed  to  indicate  a  politi- 
cal intention,  by  which  the  piece  is  rendered  more  general, 
and  consequently  more  entertaining.' 

The  Fashionable  Lover,  too,  contained  stolen  material. 
Dibdin  declares  that  the  play  was  culled  from  no  less 
than  three  other  comedies,  and  a  novel.  It  'was,'  he  said, 
'a  most  injudicious  play  and  contained  such  a  mixture  of 
the  "Conscious  Lovers,"19  "False  Delicacy,"20  "Taste,"21 
and  "Clarissa  Harlow,"  that  it  was  impossible  for  any- 
thing to  be  more  heterogeneous.  .  .  . '2  Charges  of 
plagiarism  have,  however,  little  force  when  applied  to 
The  Fashionable  Lover.  The  play  belongs  to  the  family 
of  sentimental  comedy,  and  a  reader  may,  without  diffi- 
culty, discover  elsewhere  incidents  and  characters  similar 
to  those  of  The  Fashionable  Lover,  but  Cumberland's 
own  words,  prefixed  to  the  play,  exonerate  him:  'I  have 

19  Richard  Steele's  Conscious  Lovers  was  acted  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre 
in  1721. 

20  False  Delicacy  by  Hugh  Kelly  was  first  performed  at  Drury  Lane 
Theatre  in  1768. 

21  Taste  by  Samuel  Foote  was  acted  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre  in  1752. 

22  A  Complete  History  of  the  Stage,  5.287. 


THE  FASHIONABLE  LOVER  97 

on  this  occasion  (as  on  the  two  preceding  ones),  wholly 
rested  my  performance  upon  such  poor  abilities,  as  I  am 
master  of;  I  am  not  conscious  of  having  drawn  any  par- 
ticular assistance,  either  in  respect  of  character  or  design, 
from  the  productions  of  others;  altho'  I  am  far  from 
presuming  to  say  or  think,  that  I  have  ever  exhibited  any 
character  purely  original.'23 

Whether  or  not  the  new  play  was  realism,  as  the 
critics  wished  to  have  it,  whether  or  not  it  was  a  huge 
larceny,  as  Dibdin  maintained,  was  of  little  consequence, 
for  its  success  as  a  stage  production  could  not  be  ques- 
tioned. 'The  situations  are  well  chosen/  is  the  comment 
of  The  Town  and  Country  Magazine  for  January,  'and 
the  attention  is  kept  alive  by  the  passions  throughout 
being  very  sensibly  affected.'  The  February  number  of 
The  Gentleman  s  Magazine  remarks  indirectly  upon  the 
strength  of  the  play  on  the  stage  by  admitting  the  futility 
of  laying  the  plot  before  the  reader.  To  offer  the  skele- 
ton of  this,  without  the  colour  supplied  by  the  acting, 
would  'injure  the  author,  by  exhibiting  only  the  bran  of 
his  performance,  after  having  sifted  away  the  flour.' 
Whether  dependent  upon  its  first  form  or  upon  'judicious 
alterations,'  the  popularity  of  The  Fashionable  Lover 
was  assured,  for  as  late  as  the  end  of  March  The  London 
Review  said  that :  'the  representation  of  the  Fashionable 
Lover  still  continued  to  bring  together  crowded  audi- 
ences. .  .  .'  It  was  not  as  Cumberland  thought,  'the 
happiest  effort  of  his  pen,'24  but  it  was,  as  Genest  said, 
'pretty  good  comedy.'25  The  play  is  faulty,  and  lacking 
in  originality,  but  the  reader  not  devoid  of  imagination 

;3  The  Fashionable  Lover,  London,  1772,  'Advertisement,'  6. 

24  Mudford,  Life  of  Richard  Cumberland,  280. 

25  Genest,  5.322. 


g8  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

may  see  it  in  some  of  its  old  lustre.  The  discovery  of 
Lord  Abberville  by  Lucinda,  and  Miss  Aubrey's  rescue 
by  Mortimer  and  Colin, — these  were  not  scenes  to  tire 
when  acted  by  the  Barrys  or  when  Dodd,20  so  admired  by 
Charles  Lamb,  played  Abberville. 

The  play  was  popular  in  England,  and  the  reception 
in  Scotland  was  flattering  enough  to  please  even  Cum- 
berland. A  letter  from  'Candidus'  shows  the  delight  of 
the  Caledonian  audiences  of  1802:  'Sir,'  he  says,  'on 
Wednesday,  the  Comedy  of  The  Fashionable  Lover  or 
The  Faithful  Highlander  was  brought  forward  for  the 
first  time  this  season,  and  attracted  a  genteel  audience. 
.  .  .  Every  attempt  to  rescue  the  Scottish  honour  .  .  . 
must  be  highly  satisfactory  to  the  friends  of  their  coun- 
try, who  are  desirous  to  promote  cordial  unanimity  among 
the  inhabitants  both  of  England  and  Scotland.'27 

Mrs.  Centlivre  and  Charles  Macklin  had  preceded 
Cumberland  in  creating  Scotch  characters  for  the  stage. 
In  1714  Mrs.  Centlivre  had  produced  The  Wonder!  A 
Woman  Keeps  a  Secret!  in  which  appear  Colonel  Briton, 
who  passes  as  Scotch,  and  his  valet,  Gibbey,28  who  speaks 
a  strange  jargon  of  the  Scotch  dialect.  In  1759  was 

26  James  William   Dodd   first   appeared   at   Drury  Lane   Theatre   on 
October  3,   1765,  as  Faddle  in  Moore's  play,   The  Foundling.     He  was 
regarded   as  the   successor  of   Colley  Cibber   in  the   parts   of   beaux  or 
coxcombs.    'What  an  Aguecheek,'  says  Lamb,  'the  stage  lost  in  him.' 

27  Candidus,  The  Theatre,  Letter  13.    An  amusing  sidelight  is  thrown 
on  this  performance  of  The  Fashionable  Lover  by  an  angry  remonstrance 
from  'Candidus'  against  disturbers  of  the  theatre:  'MALE  AND  FEMALE 
TATTLERS  again  appeared  in  the  Boxes,  and  carried  on  their  attack 
against  the   audience   and   actors,   without  the   smallest  opposition   from 
either.    The  audience  and  actors  in  Edinburgh,'  concludes  the  writer,  'are 
surely  most  magnanimous.' 

28  Gibbey,  the  Scotch  character  in  an  embryonic  stage.    In  The  Wonder 


THE  FASHIONABLE  LOVER  99 

acted  Macklin's  Love  a  la  Mode  with  Sir  Archy  Mac- 
Sarcasm,29  and  in  1781  The  Man  of  the  World  with  Sir 
Pertinax  Macsycophant.  The  speech  of  both  of  these 
characters  is  clearer  and  wittier  than  Gibbey's,  but  they 
and  he  are,  all  three,  caricatures. 

Colin  Macleod  is  different,  his  one  link  with  the  earlier 
characters  being  the  dialect.  Since  Cumberland  admits 
having  taken  this  from  Colin's  predecessors  on  the  stage, 
he  fairly  anticipates  the  accusation  of  The  Whitehall 
Evening  Post  of  January  25  that  'the  author  has  repeat- 
edly betrayed  his  ignorance  of  the  Scottish  manners, 
languages,  and  customs.'  What  Cumberland  did  for  the 
Scotchman  was  to  make  him  the  hero  of  a  serious  drama. 
The  original  title  of  the  play  was:  The  Fashionable 
Lover,  or  The  Faithful  Highlander.  And,  as  the  paper 
just  quoted  says,  'the  Scotchman  is  the  hero,  and  from 
him  the  piece  was  to  have  been  called  The  Highlander.1 
Colin  Macleod  is  not  the  hero  of  a  farce,  like  Sir  Archy 
or  Sir  Pertinax,  but  is  the  first  Scotchman  to  be  the 
central  figure  of  a  sentimental  drama.  So  Colin  domi- 
nates all  other  characters  in  the  dramatis  personae,  and 
initiates  every  important  movement  of  the  plot.  With- 
out him  the  main  incidents  of  Bridgemore's  infidelity  and 
Miss  Aubrey's  trouble  fall  to  the  ground.  He  is  at  once 
the  buffoon  and  the  mainspring  of  the  action. 

But  it  is  the  moral  and  sentimental  character  of  Colin 
Macleod  that  is  most  striking.  It  is  not  that  he  brings 

[3.1]  he  says:  'Gin  I  be,  sir,  the  mon  that  told  me  leed;  and  gin  he  did, 
the  deel  be  my  landlord,  gin  I  dee  not  lick  him  as  long  as  I  can  haud  a 
stick  in  my  hond,  see  me  noo.' 

29  Sir  Archy's  dialect  is  nearer  Colin's  {Love  a  la  Mode,  2.2]  :  'Oh, 
Sir,  ye  dinna  ken  the  law— the  law  is  a  sort  of  hocus  pocus  science,  that 
smiles  in  yer  face  while  it  picks  yer  pocket;  and  the  glorious  uncertainty 
of  it  is  of  mair  use  to  the  professors  than  the  justice  of  it.' 


ioo RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

a  new  era  in  which  the  virtuous  Scotch  are  continually 
exhibited;  it  is  not,  as  'Candidus'  hoped,  'an  attempt  to 
rescue  the  Scottish  honour,  Scottish  bravery,  and  Scot- 
tish generosity,  from  the  illiberal  attacks  of  a  few  proud, 
narrow-minded  Englishmen'  ;30  and  it  is  untrue  that  Colin 
represents  'a  fulsome  compliment  to  the  Scotch,  at  the 
expence  of  the  English,'31  for  Cumberland  cared  as  little 
for  Scotland  and  the  Scotch  as  an  Englishman  could 
care.  The  significance  of  Colin's  moral  and  sentimental 
position  in  the  play  lies  in  the  light  he  throws  upon  Cum- 
berland's own  moral  attitude,  and  upon  his  conception 
of  the  drama  as  a  channel  for  its  expression.  Cumber- 
land aimed  to  correct  an  English  prejudice  by  displaying 
virtue  in  Scotch  costume.  So  Colin  is  open-hearted, 
frank,  generous,  endowed  with  every  virtue,  and,  in  par- 
ticular, with  those  which  were  generally  denied  his  nation. 
'We  cannot,'  says  The  London  Review  for  February, 
'help  expressing  our  admiration  of  the  author's  hardiness 
in  making  a  Scotchman  generous.  The  prejudices  of  the 
time  deny  them  that  virtue,  though  the  Highlands  be 
perhaps  the  only  corner  of  the  island,  where  genuine 
hospitality  still  remains.'  The  success  of  Cumberland's 
moral  character  is  evident  from  the  following  critique  in 
The  St.  James  Chronicle  of  January  21 :  'The  Introduc- 
tion of  a  Scotch  Character,  with  his  national  Peculiari- 
ties, and  the  reconciling  Light  in  which  he  was  put,  by  the 
artful  and  judicious  contrivance  of  the  Author,  is  an 
Attempt  that  does  Honour  to  his  Heart  and  to  the  Stage, 
by  restoring  it  to  its  noblest  Uses.' 

Colin  Macleod  pleased  Boswell.     During  the  trip  to 
the  Hebrides  he  writes  in  his  diary:  'It  was  a  storm  of 

30 'Candidas,'  The  Theatre,  Letter  13. 

31  The  Town  and  Country  Magazine,  January,  1772. 


THE  FASHIONABLE  LOVER  101 

wind  and  rain;  so  we  could  not  set  out.  I  wrote  some 
of  this  Journal,  and  talked  awhile  with  Dr.  Johnson  in 
his  room,  and  passed  the  day,  I  cannot  well  say  how,  but 
very  pleasantly.  I  was  here  amused  to  find  Mr.  Cum- 
berland's comedy  of  the  Fashionable  Lover,  in  which 
he  has  very  well  drawn  a  Highland  character,  Colin 
M'Cleod,  of  the  same  name  with  the  family  under  whose 
roof  we  now  were.'32 

The  Fashionable  Lover  was  acted  about  fifteen  times. 
Cumberland's  wish  that  each  new  play  should  surpass 
the  last  led  him  into  the  error  of  believing  that  The  Fash- 
ionable Lover  was  superior  to  The  West  Indian.  The 
prologue  to  the  play  openly  expresses  his  preference: 

Two  you  have  reared ;  but  between  you  and  me, 
This  youngest  is  the  fav'rite  of  the  three.33 

'I  confess/  the  author  adds  in  the  Memoirs,  'I  flattered 
myself  that  I  had  outgone  The  West  Indian  in  point  of 

82  Life  of  Johnson,  Hill  ed.,  5.200. 

13  The  prologue  and  epilogue  were  very  popular.  'The  piece,'  says 
The  Oxford  Magazine  for  January,  'was  opened  with  a  humourous  Pro- 
logue, spoken  by  Mr.  Weston,  in  the  character  of  a  Printer's  Devil.'  In 
The  Recollections  of  the  Life  of  John  O'Keeffe  [1.344-5]  occurs  a  story 
of  an  incident  connected  with  this  prologue.  The  Fashionable  Lover  was 
being  performed  in  a  Dublin  theatre:  'Dawson  was  manager,  and  up  in 
one  of  the  boxes  to  watch  the  performance:  his  son  George,  a  lad  of 
fifteen,  had  to  speak  a  prologue.  .  .  .  The  house  was  crowded,  the  actors, 
manager,  and  audience,  all  in  full  hopes.  The  prompter's  bell  rang, 
when  in  walked  George  Dawson  ...  his  face  and  hands  blackened, 
and  an  old  newspaper  twisted  and  pinned  like  a  cap  about  his  head. 
There  he  stood,  silent  and  terrified:  at  last  he  stammered  out  the  first 
line  of  the  prologue.  "I'm  the  Devil,  so  please  you."  Not  another  word 
could  he  remember,  so  began  again,  bowing,  "I'm  the  Devil,  so  please 
you."  And  then  again  to  the  wonder  and  amusement  of  the  audience, 
bowed  and  repeated,  "I'm  the  Devil,  so  please  you,"  and  fairly  ran  off 
the  stage.' 


102  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

composition.  ...  I  have  been  reading  it  over  with 
attention;  and  so  many  years  have  passed  since  I  wrote 
it,  that  I  have  very  little  of  the  feeling  of  the  author 
when  I  speak  of  it.  I  rather  think  I  was  right  in  giving 
it  the  preference  to  the  West  Indian,  though  I  am  far 
from  sure  I  was  unprejudiced  in  my  judgment  at  that 
time.  ...  I  verily  believe  if  The  Fashionable  Lover 
was  not  my  composition,  and  I  were  called  upon  to  give 
my  opinion  of  it,  .  .  .1  should  be  inclined  to  say  it  was 
a  drama  of  a  moral,  grave  and  tender  cast.  ...  I  could 
not  deny  it  a  preference  to  the  West  Indian  in  a  moral 
light,  and  ...  I  might  be  tempted  to  say  that  in  point 
of  diction  it  approached  very  nearly  to  what  I  conceived 
to  be  the  true  style  of  comedy.' 

Superior  to  The  West  Indian,  The  Fashionable  Lover 
was  not,  but  it  was,  indeed,  'a  drama  of  a  moral,  grave 
and  tender  cast,'  and  proved  the  nature  of  Cumberland's 
talents.  Didacticism  was  very  strong  in  Cumberland, 
and  this,  combined  with  real  virtue,  led  him  to  attempt 
nothing  less  than  to  reform  public  opinion.  Sentimental 
comedy  was  to  be  the  agent  of  correction.  As  in  The 
West  Indian  Cumberland  had  aimed  to  change  the  popu- 
lar conception  of  the  stage  Irishman  by  exhibiting  the 
moral  O'Flaherty,  he  now  made  the  hero  of  his  play, 
Colin  Macleod,  a  Scotchman  who  is  generous,  unselfish, 
and  devoted  to  the  cause  of  virtue.  Cumberland's  long- 
ing for  fame  and  his  belief  in  the  mission  of  moral 
drama  permeate  the  Memoirs,  and  have  something  of 
the  pathos  of  all  dead  hopes.  First  as  the  leader  of 
sentimental  comedy  he  condemns  the  meretricious  Res- 
toration drama:  'Congreve,  Farquhar,  and  some  others 
have  made  vice  and  villany  so  playful  and  amusing,  that 
either  they  could  not  find  it  in  their  hearts  to  punish 


THE  FASHIONABLE  LOVER  103 

them,  or  not  caring  how  wicked  they  were,  so  long  as 
they  were  witty,  paid  no  attention  to  what  became  of 
them :  Shadwell's  comedy  is  little  better  than  a  brothel.' 
That  Congreve  could  live,  Cumberland  would  not  be- 
lieve, nor  had  he  faith  in  the  wit  of  Samuel  Foote  and 
his  fellows:  'A  true  poet,'  he  says  in  oracular  fashion, 
'knows  that  unless  he  can  produce  works,  whose  fame 
will  outlive  him,  he  will  outlive  both  his  works  and  his 
fame;  therefore  every  comic  author  who  takes  the  mere 
clack  of  the  day  for  his  subject,  and  abandons  all  his 
claim  upon  posterity,  is  no  true  poet;  if  he  dabbles  in 
personalities,  he  does  considerably  worse.'  The  pur- 
pose of  the  moral  dramatist  is  then  set  forth:  'When 
I  began  therefore,  as  at  this  time,  to  write  for  the  stage, 
my  ambition  was  to  aim  at  writing  something  that 
might  be  lasting  and  outlive  me;  when  temporary  sub- 
jects were  suggested  to  me  I  declined  them:  I  formed 
to  myself  in  idea  what  I  conceived  to  be  the  character 
of  a  legitimate  comedy,  and  that  alone  was  my  object, 
and  though  I  did  not  quite  aspire  to  attain,  I  was  not 
altogether  in  despair  of  approaching  it.  I  perceived 
that  I  had  fallen  upon  a  time,  when  great  eccentricity 
of  character  was  pretty  nearly  gone  by,  but  still  I 
fancied  there  was  an  opening  for  shewing  at  least  my 
good  will  to  mankind,  if  I  introduced  the  characters  of 
persons,  who  had  been  usually  exhibited  on  the  stage,  as 
the  butts  for  ridicule  and  abuse,  and  endeavoured  to 
present  them  in  such  lights,  as  might  tend  to  reconcile 
the  world  to  them,  and  them  to  the  world.  I  thereupon 
looked  into  society  for  the  purpose  of  discovering  such 
as  were  the  victims  of  its  national,  professional  or  reli- 
gious prejudices;  in  short  for  those  suffering  characters, 
which  stood  in  need  of  an  advocate,  and  out  of  these  I 


104  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

meditated  to  select  and  form  heroes  for  my  future 
dramas,  of  which  I  would  study  to  make  such  favourable 
and  reconciliatory  delineations,  as  might  incline  the  spec- 
tators to  look  upon  them  with  pity,  and  receive  them  into 
their  good  opinion  and  esteem.' 


CHAPTER  VII 
DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— GOLDSMITH 

RICHARD  CUMBERLAND,  the  dramatist,  was 
now  living  in  Queen-Anne  Street  West  at  the 
corner  of  Wimpole  Street.  The  pleasant  Fitzherbert  had 
a  house  in  the  same  street,  and  Edmund  Burke  lived 
almost  opposite.  'A  little  straw,'  says  Cumberland, 
'will  serve  to  light  a  great  fire,  and  after  the  acting  of 
the  West  Indian,  I  would  say,  if  the  comparison  was  not 
too  presumptuous,  I  was  almost  the  Master  Betty  of  my 
time.'  These  were  the  best  years  of  Cumberland's  life. 
Such  success  as  he  had  fate  could  not  take  from  him, 
and  one  of  his  rewards  was  his  wide  acquaintance  with 
the  great  figures  of  the  age.  During  the  next  few  years 
he  knew  well  Garrick,  Johnson,  Goldsmith,  Reynolds, 
Sheridan,  Foote,  'Ossian'  Macpherson,  Doctor  Beattie, 
and  others  less  known  to  fame.  But  the  friendships 
were  often  one-sided.  His  unusual  personality  at  once 
attracted  and  repelled.  Fame  demands  a  price — the 
knowledge  of  her  favourites'  faults,  and  as  Cumberland 
became  better  known,  his  strange  twists  of  mind  were 
fruitful  themes  for  jest. 

The  undeniable  success  of  The  Fashionable  Lover 
could  not  make  Cumberland  forget  the  attacks  of  the 
critics.  He  writhed  unceasingly  under  their  careless 
stings.  'He  is,'  said  Garrick  impatiently,  'a  man  with- 
out a  skin!'  Partly  from  a  natural  desire  to  justify  his 
powers,  partly  from  industry,  he  wrote  play  after  play. 


io6  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

He  seemed  determined  to  stem  the  increasing  tide  of 
criticism  by  the  very  number  and  frequency  of  his 
productions.  'Mr.  Cumberland,'  complained  Arthur 
Murphy,  a  brother  dramatist,  'was  resolved  not  to  let 
his  muse  have  time  to  rest.'1  Cumberland  was  recog- 
nized as  the  perennial  producer  for  Drury  Lane,  and 
writer  of  epilogues  for  all  plays.  'Mr.  Cumberland's 
"Epilogue,"  '  says  Walpole  wearily,  'is  a  very  long  riddle, 
which  I  guessed  from  the  two  first  lines.'2  And  in  an 
excess  of  boredom  he  writes  the  Countess  of  Ossory: 
'What  should  I  read  else?  I  know  all  that  can  be  told 
me  of  the  periods  I  delight  in.  I  can  scarce  read  Gram- 
mont  and  Madame  de  Sevigne  because  I  know  them  by 
heart.  Can  I  pause  over  American  disputes  which  I 
never  did  nor  ever  shall  understand?  Do  I  care  for 
hearing  how  many  ways  Mr.  Burke  can  make  a  mosaic 
pavement  or  an  inlaid  cabinet?  Can  I  be  diverted  by 
Mr.  Cumberland's  comedies,  or  Garrick's  nonsensical 
epilogues?'3 

By  the  summer  of  1773  the  resentment  in  Garrick 
aroused  by  Cumberland's  importunities  had  taken  a  defi- 
nite turn.  Cumberland  was  just  now  seeking  to  bring 
out  a  new  farce,  The  Note  of  Hand.  His  letter  to  the 
Drury  Lane  manager  is  exceedingly  brief  and  formal. 
It  runs: 

Queen  Ann's  Street,  June  27,  1773. 

Mr.  Cumberland  presents  his  compliments  to  Mr.  Garrick,  will 
take  an  early  opportunity  of  reading  him  the  piece  of  two  acts, 
agreeable  to  his  promise,  as  soon  as  he  has  completed  the  alteration 
which  Mr.  Gar-rick  recommended.  He  will  transmit  it  from 

1  Life  of  David  Garrick,  2.109. 

2  Letters  of  Horace  Walpole,  Toynbee  ed.,  7.338. 

3  Ibid.,  9.127-8. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— GOLDSMITH    107 

Ireland  before  the  season  commences,  in  time  for  any  purpose  Mr. 
Garrick  may  have  for  it,  though  ever  so  early.  Mr.  Cumberland 
leaves  town  in  a  few  days.4 

Garrick's  note,  which  contains  exactly  ten  more  words 
than  Cumberland's,  and  which  is  dated  the  same  day, 
promises  to  read  the  play,  but  says  that  Mr.  Garrick  is 
'much  surprised  after  so  long  a  silence  to  receive  his  note 
of  yesterday.'  The  letter  ends  with  something  very  like 
a  sneer:  Mr.  Garrick  'little  thought,  after  he  was 
informed  of  his  new  scheme,  that  he  should  have  been 
honoured  again  with  his  [Cumberland's]  commands.'5 

What  the  'new  scheme'  was  is  conjectural,  but  it  is 
probable  that  Garrick  alludes  to  the  efforts  of  Cumber- 
land and  some  friends  to  establish  the  actor,  Hender- 
son,6 in  London,  a  supposition  rendered  likely  by  Cum- 
berland's later  reference  to  it  as  a  plan  for  'the  promotion 
of  genius.'7 

The  dramatist's  reply  to  the  innuendo  is  dignified 
and  manly,  and  displays  a  defiance  that  seems  almost 
to  proclaim  a  new  Cumberland.  'I  perceive,'  he  says, 
'you  write  to  me  under  resentment,  and  it  is  plain  you 
allude  to  the  cause,  when  you  tell  me  of  the  new  scheme 
I  have  been  engaged  in.  Weak  as  the  foundations  are 
on  which  you  build  your  anger,  I  am  yet  well  content 
you  should  have  some  plea  for  your  neglect  of  me;  and 
I  had  rather  that  excuse  should  spring  from  passion 
(though  self-interest  be  the  root  of  it)  than  be  found 
to  proceed  from  lassitude  in  friendship,  and  that  insen- 

4  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.551. 

5  Ibid.,  1.552. 

6  John    Henderson    acted    in    Cumberland's    Battle    of   Hastings,    The 
Mysterious  Husband,  Don  Pedro,  and  The  Arab. 

7  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.552. 


io8  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

sibility  of  nature  which  is  more  unconquerable  than  aver- 
sion itself.  It  is  true,  Sir,'  Cumberland  continues,  'I  have 
been  engaged  in  an  undertaking,  which  had  for  its  object 
the  promotion  of  genius.  I  have  been  tempted  to  sub- 
scribe my  opinion  at  the  instigation  of  friends  whose 
judgment  I  hold  sacred,  and  amongst  them  by  some  which 
you  and  I  enjoy  in  common,  who,  like  myself,  did  not 
apprehend  you  would  have  resented  an  effort,  founded 
in  public  spirit,  and  which  neither  aimed  nor  aspired  to 
affect  a  fortune  and  a  fame,  which  your  unequalled  merits 
have  long  made  secure,  and  promise  to  transmit  without 
impeachment  to  posterity.'8 

In  1773  Henderson,  whose  great  powers  were  begin- 
ning to  manifest  themselves,  had  acted  before  Garrick 
at  Bath,  and  aroused  his  jealousy  by  a  fine  performance 
of  Benedick.  Garrick  was  secretly  resolved  to  suppress 
Henderson,  and  Cumberland,  whose  part  in  the  affair 
seems  to  have  been  an  honourable  and  kindly  effort  to 
bring  the  actor  forward,  says :  'When  I  had  seen  him  in 
different  characters,  and  became  confirmed  in  [my] 
opinion  of  his  merit  I  warmly  recommended  him  to  Mr. 
Garrick.'  The  latter  apparently  contracted  for  Hen- 
derson's engagement,  but  Cumberland  soon  saw  that  he 
was  'cool  in  the  business.'  Henderson's  idea  of  the  situa- 
tion is  clear  in  a  letter  to  a  friend:  'You  are  to  know 
then  that  I  think  Mr.  Garrick  has  acted  very  illiberally 
and  ungentlemanly  in  my  regard — I  will  tell  you  how 

Mr.  C d  sent  to  me  the  other  morning,  after  my 

playing  Benedict,  to  compliment  and  applaud  me.  He 
told  me  that  he  was  astonished  at  my  performance,  that 
Mr.  Garrick  had  prepared  him  for  a  very  different  opin- 
ion.— Mr.  C d  then  shewed  me  a  letter  from  him, 

8  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.552. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— GOLDSMITH    109 

wherein  he  says,  uSee  Henderson  more  than  once,  and 

give  me  your  real  opinion  of  him" — Mr.  C d  did  so, 

and  that  opinion  was  the  most  kind  and  favourable  that 

could  be  imagined.     Yet  Mr.  G took  no  manner 

of   notice    of    it,    though    he    constantly   wrote    to    Mr. 

C d.  .   .   .'• 

Cumberland  persisted  in  behalf  of  Henderson,  whose 
gratitude  was  overflowing.  Although  Garrick  was  tem- 
porarily successful  in  checkmating  his  rival,  making  'the 
transfer  of  his  property  in  the  theatre  without  the  name 
of  Henderson  upon  the  roll  of  his  performers,'  yet  Cum- 
berland ultimately  secured  his  appearance  in  a  play  of 
his  own.  'Truth  obliges  me  to  say,'  says  the  dramatist, 
'that  the  negociation  in  all  its  parts  and  passages  was  not 
creditable  to  Mr.  Garrick,  and  left  impressions  on  the 
mind  of  Henderson,  that  time  did  not  speedily  wear 
out.  .  .  .  When  the  Haymarket  house  opened,  Hender- 
son came  from  Bath  with  all  the  powers  of  his  genius  on 
the  alert  and  upon  the  summer  stage  fully  justified  every 
thing  that  I  and  others  had  said  of  him.  ...  A  great 
resort  of  men  of  talents  now  flocked  around  him;  the 
town  considered  him  as  a  man  injuriously  rejected  .  .  . 
yet  when  Garrick  found  that  by  lending  his  ear  to  foolish 
opinions,  and  quibbling  about  terms,  he  had  missed  the 
credit  of  engaging  the  best  actor  of  the  time,  himself 
excepted,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  if  the  praise, 
bestowed  on  Henderson's  performances,  was  not  the 
most  agreeable  topic,  that  could  be  chosen  for  his  enter- 
tainment.' When  Drury  Lane  came  under  the  manage- 
ment of  Sheridan,  Henderson  was  transferred  there  and 
acted  Edgar  in  The  Battle  of  Hastings.  Garrick's  resent- 
ment did  not  vanish  immediately.  A  year  later  he  wrote 

8  Letters  and  Poems  by  the  Late  Mr.  John  Henderson,  145,  147. 


no  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Colman  of  Cumberland:  'He  has  behav'd  so  disagreeably 
with  me,  that  I  must  have  a  pluck  at  his  feathers,  whether 
they  belong  to  Terence,  Shadwell,  or  are  of  his  own 
growth.' 

On  February  9,  1774,  the  same  year  in  which  this  cor- 
respondence took  place,  The  Note  of  Hand  was  per- 
formed at  Drury  Lane  Theatre.  The  piece  was  acted 
about  thirteen  times.  A  synopsis  indicates  the  trivial 
nature  of  this  dramatic  effort.  Rivers,  ruined  at  cards 
by  Sunderland,  is  saved  only  by  the  generosity  of  Mrs. 
Chevely,  a  widow  secretly  in  love  with  him.  This  lady 
sends  Rivers  an  extraordinary  'note  of  hand'  promising 
'to  surrender  on  demand,  the  heart,  hand,  and  fortune 
of  Maria  Chevely.'10  The  note  travels  wide  of  its  des- 
tination, but  at  last  reaches  Rivers,  and,  when  he  is 
united  to  Mrs.  Chevely,  Sunderland  reveals  himself  as 
a  benevolent  uncle.  O'Connor,  MacCormuck,  Sapling, 
Dipp,  Putty,  and  Spavin  direct  an  amusing  underplot. 

The  Note  of  Hand  was  the  last  play  of  Cumberland's 
produced  by  Garrick  before  leaving  the  stage,  and  was 
written  at  the  desire  of  Moody  for  another  Irish  char- 
acter as  successful  as  Major  O'Flaherty.  While  the 
farce  was  not,  as  Dibdin  says,  'equal  to  the  masterpieces 
of  Murphy  or  Colman,'11  it  was  fairly  successful,  and  the 
critics  were  friendly.  The  London  Magazine  and  The 
Town  and  Country  Magazine  for  the  month  of  February 
both  point  out  the  absurdity  of  the  plot,  at  the  same  time 
that  they  notice  the  humour  and  power  of  observation  in 
the  piece,  while  The  Monthly  Miscellany  for  March, 
Lloyd's  Evening  Post  of  February  n,  and  Scot's  Maga- 
zine for  February,  agree  in  thinking  it  excellent  satire. 

10  The  Note  of  Hand,  2.2. 

11  A  Complete  History  of  the  Stage,  5.287. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— GOLDSMITH   in 

How  pointed  was  this  satire  may  be  seen  in  the  fol- 
lowing passage  taken  from  The  London  Magazine  for 
February:  'In  the  course  of  this  farce  we  discover,  in  a 
variety  of  situations,  a  view  of  the  many  infamous  and 
ridiculous  practices  of  several  of  the  frequenters  of  New- 
market races,  under  the  honourable  appelation  of  Black 
Legs,  particularly  the  character  of  a  gaming  statesman, 
and  three  broken  tradesmen,  whose  neglect  of  business, 
and  dissipations  of  the  town,  have  forced  on  their  dis- 
graceful mode  of  existence.' 

'The  gaming  statesman,'  MacCormuck,  was  created 
as  a  caricature  of  Charles  Fox.  Cumberland's  picture  of 
the  leader  of  the  Whig  party  as  a  dissolute  politician  was 
a  dangerous  pleasantry,  and  one  which  was  not  to  go 
unpunished.  He  had  aroused  the  anger  of  the  Whigs, 
and,  in  particular,  that  of  Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan. 

When,  on  December  19  of  the  same  year,  Cumberland 
brought  out  The  Choleric  Man,  he  was  still  smarting 
from  the  onslaughts  of  the  critics,  and,  stirred  beyond 
control  by  a  particularly  venomous  assault,  he  broke 
silence,  and  prefixed  to  the  printed  copy  of  the  comedy  a 
Dedication  to  Detraction.  This  piece  of  irritable  and 
undignified  prose  could  do  nothing  but  recoil  upon  the 
writer.  'If  the  reader,'  says  Arthur  Murphy,  'wishes  to 
have  a  true  idea  of  a  choleric  man,  he  will  find  it  in  the 
Dedication  to  Detraction.'^2 

This  comedy  has  nothing  original  to  commend  it. 
'The  Choleric  Man,'  Andrew  Nightshade,  a  bully  who 
lives  by  the  verybreath  of  quarrel,  has  the  pleasant  pecul- 
iarity of  educating  his  son  Jack  as  a  footman.  The  other 
son  has,  meanwhile,  been  normally  reared  under  the 
guardianship  of  Manlove,  Nightshade's  brother,  and  the 

12  Life  of  David  Garrick,  2.109. 


RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 


adventures  of  the  eccentric  Nightshades,  while  visiting 
Manlove,  form  the  backbone  of  a  diverting  plot.  Andrew 
is  finally  frightened  from  a  long  course  of  churlishness  by 
rough  handling  from  a  mob,  and  ends  his  career  in  mild 
repentance.  Jack,  duped  by  Dibble,  carries  on  a  clumsy 
wooing  of  Lucy,  the  maidservant,  thinking  her  Laetitia, 
the  mistress,  and  his  gay  vulgarity  makes  the  sport  of 
the  play.  Charles,  the  conventional  lover,  wins  Laetitia. 
Like  Timon  of  Athens,  The  Choleric  Man  suffered  by 
fairly  inviting  comparison  with  a  great  original  and  a 
modern  adaptation.  Critics  instantly  turned  to  the 
Adelphi  of  Terence,  Cumberland's  avowed  model,  and 
Shadwell's  Squire  of  Alsatia™  which  the  author  denied 
having  read.  The  Universal  Magazine  warns  Cumber- 
land that  his  'acknowledging  his  acquaintance  with 
Terence,  in  his  Prologue,  will  not  conceal  him  from  a 
detection  of  other  connections.'  'We  fancy,'  the  reviewer 
says,  'he  is  more  indebted  to  Shadwell's  Squire  of  Alsatia 
than  to  the  former  though  he  has  forgotten  to  make  his 
acknowledgments  to  the  humbler  Poet  of  the  two.'14 
Lloyd's  Evening  Post  of  December  19  declares  that  Cum- 
berland's inability  to  approach  his  great  model  is  due  to 
his  'having  almost  totally  abandoned  his  original,  both 
in  respect  to  character,  and  to  the  Fable,'  and  says  that, 
left  to  its  own  resources,  'the  Author's  Pegasus  flagged, 
and  never  got  into  wind  again.'  The  St.  James  Chronicle 
of  December  22  indulges  in  a  long  comparison  of 
Terence,  Moliere,  Shadwell,  and  Cumberland  in  respect 
to  their  various  treatments  of  this  subject,  'The  differ- 
ent Effects  of  a  harsh  and  severe,  and  a  mild  and  gentle 
Education.'  -While  admitting  that  Cumberland  is  not  at 

13  The  Squire  of  Alsatia  was  first  acted  in  1688. 

14  The  Universal  Magazine,  December,  1774.    This  magazine  reprints 
several  scenes  from  Act  1. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— GOLDSMITH    113 

his  best  in  The  Choleric  Man,  the  writer  bestows  high 
praise  upon  his  dialogue,  when  he  finally  says:  'He  is 
often  as  witty  as  Congreve,  as  easy  as  Vanbrugh,  and  as 
satirical  as  Wycherley.' 

Not  yet  reduced  to  the  status  of  a  mere  writer  of  plays, 
Cumberland  had  high  hopes  for  The  Choleric  Man.  The 
play  was  acted  thirteen  times,15  but,  with  the  death  of 
Weston,  passed  into  oblivion.  The  play  has  none  of  the 
vigour  of  the  earlier  comedies.  Cumberland's  prediction 
of  its  future  is  unlikely  to  be  fulfilled:  'If  ever,'  he  writes 
in  the  Memoirs,  'there  shall  be  found  an  editor  of  my 
dramatic  works  as  an  entire  collection,  this  comedy  will 
stand  forward  as  one  of  the  most  prominent  among 
them.' 

Dramatic  vicissitudes  were  suddenly  forgotten  in  a 
deep  sorrow.  During  the  winter  of  1774-1775,  while 
Cumberland  was  at  Bath  for  his  health,  he  received  the 
sad  news  of  the  death  of  his  father.  While  not  yet 
recovered  from  this  affliction,  he  learned  of  the  fatal 
illness  of  his  mother.  'Those  senses  so  acute,  and  that 
mind  so  richly  endowed,  were  in  an  instant  taken  from 
her.'  'Thus,'  says  Cumberland,  'was  I  bereft  of  father 
and  mother  without  the  consolation  of  having  paid  them 
the  last  mournful  duties  of  a  son.  One  surviving  sister, 
the  best  and  most  benevolent  of  human  beings,  attended 
them  in  their  last  moments,  and  performed  those  duties, 
which  my  hard  fortune  would  not  suffer  me  to  share.' 

There  were  to  be  no  more  peaceful  summers  at  Clon- 
fert.  The  autumn  of  1775  the  dramatist  passed  in  a 
tour  of  the  lakes  in  Cumberland.  While  on  this  journey 
he  wrote  two  odes.  These  deserve  mention  here,  only 

15  Genest,  5.444.  It  also  enjoyed  some  popularity  in  America.  See 
Seilhamer,  History  of  the  American  Theatre,  1774-1792,  267. 


ii4  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

for  the  light  that  they  throw  upon  the  authour's  character. 
A  successful  dramatist,  he  could  not  yet  abandon  the  idea 
that  he  had  poetic  genius.  The  first  poem,  an  Ode  to  the 
Sun,  was  unspeakably  heavy  and  turgid.  The  second, 
an  Ode  to  Doctor  Robert  James,  excited  the  laughter  of 
Horace  Walpole  and  Hannah  More.  The  poem  was  a 
grateful  tribute  to  the  physician  for  having  cured  Cum- 
berland's son  of  a  critical  illness. 

'Mr.  Cumberland,'  Walpole  wrote  Mason,  'has  pub- 
lished two  odes  in  which  he  has  been  so  bountiful  as  to 
secure  immortality  for  Gray,  for  Dr.  James's  powder, 
and  indeed  for  his  own  odes,  for  Father  Time  would  fall 
asleep  before  he  could  read  them  through.'16  Hannah 
More  was  astonished  at  this  effort  of  the  Muse :  'I  tried 
in  vain  to  prevail  upon  Mr.  Cambridge  to  read  them; 
but  we  could  not.  He  has  a  natural  aversion  to  an  ode, 
as  some  people  have  to  a  cat ;  one  of  them  is  very  pretty, 
but  another  contains  a  literal  description  of  administering 
a  dose  of  James's  powders.'17 

The  lines  which  delighted  Hannah  More  and  other 
readers  ran: 

The  mother  aids  the  draught,  and  as  she  aids  it,  prays. 

*  *  * 

Now  in  each  other's  eyes  we  stare 
With  looks  that  ask  if  hope  be  there. 
Meanwhile,  the  magic  drug,  at  strife 
With  the  detected  foe  of  life, 
Runs  to  the  heart,  mounts  to  the  brain, 
And  visits  each  corrupted  vein. 
Where'er  it  comes  bids  tumults  cease, 
And  hail  .the  messenger  of  Peace. 

16  Letters  of  Horace  Walpole,  Toynbee  ed.,  9.335-6. 

17  Memoirs  of  the  Life  and  Correspondence  of  Mrs.  Hannah  More, 
Roberts  ed.,  1.53. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— GOLDSMITH    115 

The  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  April,  1776,  in 
reviewing  these  poems,  says:  'This  publication  consists 
of  two  odes,  i.  an  irregular  one  the  sun  .  .  .  On  this 
ode  Mr.  Gray's  journal  is  the  best  commentary,  as  it 
refers  to  all  the  scenes  here  hinted  at.  Some  of  his 
Pindaric  fire  seems  also  caught  by  our  bard,  tho'  if  we 
are  not  mistaken,  both  Messrs.  Gray  and  Mason  are 
great  enemies  to  irregularity  in  odes  .  .  .  Ode  II  is 
addressed  to  (the  late)  Dr.  Robert  James,  and  is  a  just 
and  elegant  tribute  to  that  'Victorious  sage,  Great  tamer 
of  the  fever's  rage."  .  .  .' 

The  odes  were  published  in  1776  by  Mr.  Robson  in 
New  Bond  Street.  Walpole  had  been  still  further  irri- 
tated by  Cumberland's  dedication  of  the  odes  to  George 
Romney,  the  painter.  This  dedication,  declares  Walpole, 
'hisses  with  the  pertness  of  a  dull  man.'18  But  Walpole 
was  unjust.  Cumberland  and  Romney  were  close  friends, 
and  the  deep  kindliness  of  Cumberland's  nature,  beneath 
his  surface  irritabilities,  is  nowhere  better  shown  than 
in  this  friendship. 

'When  I  first  knew  Romney,'  he  says,  'he  was  poorly 
lodged  in  Newport-Street,  and  painted  at  the  small  price 
of  eight  guineas  for  a  three-quarters  portrait:  I  sate  to 
him,  and  was  the  first,  who  encouraged  him  to  advance 
his  terms,  by  paying  him  ten  guineas  for  his  perform- 
ance.' In  1776  Cumberland  dedicated  his  two  odes  to 
the  painter,  and  at  other  times  celebrated  him  in  verse. 
Allan  Cunningham  said  that  the  poetical  commendations 
of  Romney's  friends  might  be  called  an  'elegant  adver- 
tisement of  his  merit.'19  In  return  for  these  poetic  praises 

18  Correspondence  of  Horace  Walpole  and  William  Mason,  Mitford 
ed.,  9.335-6. 

10  Romney  was  generally  spoken  of  as  having  been  introduced  by 
Cumberland. 


u6  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Cumberland  doubtless  received  a  number  of  portraits, 
of  himself,  and  of  his  wife  and  daughters.  Romney  also 
copied  a  portrait  of  Cumberland's  great-grandfather,  the 
Bishop  of  Peterborough,  done  by  Murray.20 

Cumberland  found  Romney  'shy,  private,  studious  and 
contemplative.  .  .  .  of  a  habit  naturally  hypochondriac, 
with  aspen  nerves,  that  every  breath  could  ruffle.'  He 
was  'so  eager  to  begin,  and  so  slow  in  finishing  his  por- 
traits, that  he  was  forever  disappointed  of  receiving  pay- 
ment for  them  by  the  casualties  and  revolutions  in  the 
families  they  were  designed  for,  so  many  of  his  sitters 
were  killed  off,  so  many  favourite  ladies  were  dismissed, 
so  many  fond  wives  divorced,  before  he  would  bestow 
half  an  hour's  pains  upon  their  petticoats,  that  his 
unsaleable  stock  was  immense.' 

Cumberland  tells  the  story  of  a  call  upon  Romney, 
accompanied  by  Garrick.  'A  large  family  piece  unluckily 
arrested  .  .  .  [Garrick's]  attention;  a  gentleman  in  a 
close-buckled  bob  wig  and  a  scarlet  waistcoat  laced  with 
gold,  with  his  wife  and  children,  (some  sitting,  some 
standing)  had  taken  possession  of  some  yards  of  canvass 
very  much,  as  it  appeared,  to  their  own  satisfaction,  for 
they  were  perfectly  amused  in  a  contented  abstinence 
from  all  thought  or  action.  Upon  this  unfortunate 
group  when  Garrick  had  fixed  his  lynx's  eyes,  he  began 
to  put  himself  into  the  attitude  of  the  gentleman,  and 
turning  to  Mr.  Romney — "Upon  my  word,  Sir,"  said 
he,  "this  is  a  very  regular  well-ordered  family,  and  that 
is  a  very  bright  well-rubbed  mahogany  table,  at  which 

20  Chamberlain,  George  Romney,  83.  Romney  painted  at  least  three 
portraits  of  Cumberland.  The  best  painting  of  Cumberland  hangs  in 
The  National  Portrait  Galley,  in  London.  Another  picture  of  Cumber- 
land by  Romney  was  included  in  the  first  edition  of  the  Memoirs. 


RICHARD   CUMBERLAND 

FROM    A    PAINTING    BY    ROMNEY 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— GOLDSMITH    117 

that  motherly  good  lady  is  sitting,  and  this  worthy  gentle- 
man in  the  scarlet  waistcoat  is  doubtless  a  very  excellent 
subject  to  the  state  I  mean,  (if  all  these  are  his  children) 
but  not  for  your  art,  Mr.  Romney,  if  you  mean  to  pursue 
it  with  that  success,  which  I  hope  will  attend  you — ." 
The  modest  artist  took  the  hint,  as  it  was  meant  in  good 
part,  and  turned  his  family  with  their  faces  to  the  wall. 
Of  Cumberland's  portrait  'Garrick  observed:  uThat  is 
very  like  my  friend,  and  that  blue  coat  with  a  red  cape 
is  very  like  the  coat  he  has  on,  but  you  must  give  him 
something  to  do;  put  a  pen  in  his  hand,  a  paper  on  his 
table,  and  make  him  a  poet;  if  you  can  once  set  him  down 
well  to  his  writing,  who  knows  but  in  time  he  may  write 
something  in  your  praise." 

Others  of  more  stable  judgment  than  Walpole's 
thought  Cumberland's  influence  of  great  aid  to  the 
painter.  In  regard  to  Romney's  success  and  Cumber- 
land's patronage  of  him,  *  "See  Madam,"  said  Dr.  John- 
son, laughing,  "what  it  is  to  have  the  favour  of  a  literary 
man !  I  think  I  have  had  no  hero  a  great  while.  Dr. 
Goldsmith  was  my  last;  but  I  have  had  none  since  his 
time  till  my  little  Burney  came."  '" 

Cumberland's  influence  meant  much  to  Romney  in 
society;  the  dramatist  was  now  seen  everywhere.  In  a 
letter  to  Garrick  he  describes  a  typical  evening:  'I  have,' 
he  says,  'been  four  hours  on  my  legs  in  the  Drawing- 
room,  which  was  as  full  as  loyalty  could  cram  it;  the 
women  were  charmingly  dressed,  and  so  uniform  in  their 

21 '  "Sallies  such  as  these,"  says  Allan  Cunningham,  "sank  deep  into 
the  mind  of  Romney:  he  was  extremely  sensitive;  a  piece  of  captious 
criticism,  a  touch  of  smart  wit,  or  even  a  little  humourous  raillery,  damped 
and  disconcerted  him,  and  paralysed  his  hand  in  whatever  he  was 
engaged  on."  '  See  Chamberlain,  George  Romney,  53. 

22  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  1.132. 


n8  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

style,  that  you  would  have  sworn  they  had  all  been 
equipped  by  the  hands  of  one  and  the  same  milliner; 
not  a  feather  in  the  Court,  but  as  fine  as  could  be;  how 
amazingly  has  that  taste  advanced  in  my  time,  which  has 
no  very  long  retrospect.  The  men  were  in  general  plain 
and  under-dressed;  the  richest  habit  at  Court  was  Lady 
Warwick's:  Sir  George  Warren  had  his  order  snatched 
off  his  ribbon,  encircled  with  diamonds  to  the  value  of 
7Oo£.  Foote  was  there,  and  lays  it  upon  the  parsons, 
having  secured  (as  he  says)  his  gold  box  in  his  waistcoat- 
pocket  upon  seeing  so  many  black  gowns  in  the  room. 
The  dramatic  literati  and  the  American  refugees  made 
a  large  corps.  The  King  and  Queen  both  spoke  par- 
ticularly long  to  Mrs.  Montagu.  Mr.  Colman  was  there, 
and  I  had  an  opportunity  of  thanking  him  for  a  copy  of 
his  dramatic  works  in  four  volumes,  newly  printed  by 
Beckett;  the  present  surprised  and  at  the  same  pleased 
me,  because  I  understood  he  is  author  of  a  very  clever 
copy  of  verses  entitled  Bath,  &c  in  which  I  am  honoured 
with  a  satirical  couplet;  and  it  pleased  me,'  he  concludes, 
with  a  sense  of  his  own  shortcomings,  'because  peace  is 
become  so  valuable  and  so  necessary  to  my  composition, 
that  I  cannot  endure  a  face  of  hostility  on  a  human  pair 
of  shoulders ;  nay,  I  have  not  even  nerves  to  quarrel  with 
my  dog.'23 

In  the  same  letter  Cumberland  rejoices  loyally  in  good 
news  from  America,  whose  rebellion  intensely  angered 
him:  'Every  ship  that  comes  from  the  continent  of 
America  brings  tidings  of  comfort ;  we  have  letters  which 
inform  us  of  a  great  defection  in  the  colony  of  Georgia 
from  the  banner  of  rebellion;  three  entire  companies  laid 
their  arms  and  submitted.  Bullick,  the  rebel  governor 

23  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  2.206-7. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— GOLDSMITH    ug 

of  Georgia,  with  a  number  of  converts  to  loyalty,  signed 
a  petition  to  the  King  for  Mercy,  and  signified  their  sub- 
mission. This  is  a  pin  out  of  the  scaffold,  and  the  whole 
edifice  of  revolt  seems  tottering  to  its  fall.' 

It  is  easy  to  imagine  the  gay,  social  Garrick  and  Cum- 
berland, a  popular  diner-out  because  of  his  conversa- 
tional powers,  calling  together  on  their  friends.  The 
story  of  the  visit  to  Romney  has  a  parallel  in  a  call  upon 
Foote.  The  mimic  had  entertained  them  at  dinner,  and 
during  a  walk  in  the  garden  favoured  them  with  a  read- 
ing from  a  rough  draft  of  The  Maid  of  Bath,  a  play  for 
which  Cumberland  subsequently  furnished  the  epilogue.24 

Cumberland  tells  of  the  nearly  impossible,  the  hum- 
bling of  Foote.  Sir  Robert  Fletcher,  a  fourth  at  dinner, 
having  left  betimes,  hid  behind  a  screen.  'Foote,  sup- 
posing his  guest  gone,  instantly  began  to  play  off  his  ridi- 
cule at  the  expense  of  his  departed  guest.  I  must  con- 
fess it  was  a  way  that  he  had,  and  just  now  a  very  unlucky 
way,  for  Sir  Robert  bolting  from  behind  the  screen,  cried 
out—  -"I  am  not  gone,  Foote;  spare  me  till  I  am  out  of 
hearing;  and  now  with  your  leave  I  will  stay  till  these 
gentlemen  depart,  and  then  you  shall  amuse  me  at  their 
cost,  as  you  have  amused  them  at  mine."  Garrick 
alone  saved  the  situation.  4I  never  saw  him,'  says  Cum- 
berland admiringly,  'in  a  more  amiable  light;  the  infinite 
address  and  ingenuity,  that  he  exhibited  in  softening  the 
enraged  guest,  and  reconciling  him  to  pass  over  an 
affront  .  .  .  were  the  most  comic  and  the  most  complete 

24  These  verses  have  the  true  Cumberland  moral  tone: 
For  in  these  rank  luxuriant  times,  there  needs 
Some  strong  bold  hand  to  pluck  the  noxious  weeds. 
The  rake  of  sixty,  crippled  hand  and  knee, 
Who  sins  in  claret  and  repents  on  tea. 
See  Works  of  Samuel  Foote,  Bee  ed.,  3.178. 


120  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

I  ever  witnessed.  Why  was  not  James  Boswell  present 
to  have  recorded  the  dialogue  and  the  actions  of  the 
scene?  ...  I  hope  Foote  was  very  grateful,  but  when 
a  man  has  been  completely  humbled,  he  is  not  very  fond 
of  recollecting  it.' 

Since  Foote  spared  no  one  who  offended  him,  it  is 
unlikely  that  Cumberland  was  upon  agreeable  terms  with 
him.  Davies  asserts  ironically  that  Cumberland  con- 
verted Foote  to  the  Christian  faith.  'Good  Christians 
do  not  know/  he  says,  'what  obligations  they  owe  Mr. 
Cumberland.  By  the  power  of  his  eloquence,  and  the 
strength  of  his  arguments,  he  converted,  some  time  before 
his  death,  that  wicked  unbeliever,  Samuel  Foote  to  the 
Christian  faith;  he  assured  his  friends,  that  if  he  had 
lived  a  little  longer,  he  did  not  doubt  but  he  should  have 
completed  his  work,  and  made  an  honest  man  of  him.'25 

If  Cumberland  maintained  friendship  with  Foote,  it 
was  unusual,  for  amity  between  his  brother  dramatists 
and  himself  was  notably  lacking.  In  particular  was  there 
unpleasantness  with  the  opponents  of  sentimental  comedy. 
Oliver  Goldsmith  had  watched  the  rise  of  this  form  of 
drama  with  mingled  amusement  and  concern,  and  sought 
earnestly  to  restore  the  more  vigorous  and  natural  forms 
of  play-writing.  Goldsmith's  unaffected  dislike  of  senti- 
mental drama  appears  everywhere  in  his  prose.  In 
one  or  two  passages  of  his  celebrated  essay  on  the  sub- 
ject it  is  not  unlikely  that  the  author  is  thinking  of  the 
leader  of  the  school,  and  his  rival,  Cumberland.  'There 
is,'  he  says,  'one  argument  in  favor  of  sentimental  comedy, 
which  will  keep  it  on  the  stage,  in  spite  of  all  that  can  be 
said  against  it..  It  is,  of  all  others  the  most  easily  written. 

25  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  David  Garrick,  1.189.  Davies  hated  both 
Foote  and  Cumberland. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— GOLDSMITH    121 

.  .  .  It  is  only  sufficient  to  raise  the  characters  a  little; 
to  deck  out  the  hero  with  a  ribbon,  or  give  the  heroine  a 
title;  then  to  put  an  insipid  dialogue  without  character 
or  humor  into  their  mouths,  give  them  mighty  good 
hearts,  very  fine  clothes,  furnish  a  new  set  of  scenes,  make 
a  pathetic  scene  or  two,  with  a  sprinkling  of  tender  mel- 
ancholy conversation  throughout  the  whole,  and  there  is 
no  doubt  but  all  the  ladies  will  cry,  and  all  the  gentlemen 
applaud.'26 

Whether  professional  rivalry  was  increased  by  per- 
sonal antagonism  cannot  be  definitely  known.  The  two 
dramatists  first  met  at  the  British  Coffee-House,  and 
must  have  seen  each  other  often  among  the  famous  group 
which  gathered  at  this  place  of  wit  and  literary  cheer. 
Intercourse  between  two  such  diffident  and  sensitive  men 
could  not  have  been  easy,  and  numerous  stories  have  sur- 
vived of  unlucky  contretemps.  Northcote  tells  us  that 
if  Cumberland  'had  gone  in  the  room,  Goldsmith  would 
have  flown  out  of  it  as  though  a  dragon  had  been  there.'-7 
He  subsequently  adds:  4It  was  not  till  his  life  was  about 
to  close  that  he  became  tolerant  of  the  condescending 
attentions  of  the  fretful  Cumberland.'28 

To  Goldsmith,  Richard  Cumberland  must  have  seemed 
an  embodiment  of  all  that  was  vitiating  in  English 
drama.  With  the  success  of  Hugh  Kelly  and  Cumber- 
land, the  passion  for  sentimental  comedy  had  assumed 
almost  a  religious  fervour.  A  numerous  following  of 
sentimental  writers  had  gathered  about  Cumberland,  of 
whom  he  was  the  undisputed  leader.  Elizabeth  Griffith 
was  then  a  'successful  writer';  Charlotte  Lennox,  the 

26  The  Good  Natured  Man  and  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  Dobson  ed., 
125-30. 

27  Hazlitt,  Conversations  of  James  Northcote,  275. 

28  Forster,  Life  of  Goldsmith,  406. 


122  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

American,  was  enjoying  the  prestige  which  the  friend- 
ship of  Doctor  Johnson  and  her  saccharine  drama,  The 
Sister,  had  given  her;  and  William  O'Brien,  the  actor, 
wrote  sentimental  adaptations  from  the  French.  But 
however  much  Goldsmith  despised  Cumberland's  dra- 
matic ideals,  he  did  not  underestimate  his  rival's  powers. 
'Goldsmith  was  now  conscious,'  says  Forster,  'of  an 
opponent  in  the  author  of  The  West  Indian,  who  chal- 
lenged his  utmost  exertion;  and,  eager  again  to  make  it 
in  behalf  of  the  merriment,  humor,  and  character  of  the 
good  old  school  of  comedy  (Colman  so  far  encouraged 
his  purpose,  as  to  revive  the  Good  Natured  Man  for  a 
night  or  two  during  the  reign  of  The  West  Indian),  with- 
drew to  the  quiet  of  a  country  lodging  to  pursue  his  labors 
undisturbed.'29  Goldsmith  returned  with  She  Stoops  to 
Conquer,  'designed,'  said  the  critics,  'to  run  down  the 
sentimental  slip-slop,  that  .  .  .  had  infected  the  stage.' 
The  success  of  the  new  play  was  immediate  and  almost 
unqualified.  Sentimental  comedy  had  received  a  danger- 
ous wound.  Such  a  shout  as  shook  the  theatre  on  the 
first  night,  when  Tony  Lumpkin  and  his  friends  were 
gathered  at  the  Jolly  Pigeons,  might  well  have  kindled 
a  less  inflammable  jealousy  than  Richard  Cumberland's, 
and  accounts,  by  all  the  laws  of  human  nature,  for  a  cer- 
tain story  of  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,  in  the  Memoirs. 

Cumberland  says  he  was  present  when  She  Stoops  to 
Conquer  was  christened  by  Goldsmith:  'He  dined  with 
us  as  a  visitor,  introduced  as  I  think,  by  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds, and  we  held  a  consultation  upon  the  naming  of  his 
comedy,  which  some  of  the  company  had  read,  and  which 
he  detailed  to  the  rest  after  his  manner,  with  a  great  deal 

29  Forster,  Life  of  Goldsmith,  380. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— GOLDSMITH    123 

of  humor.  Somebody  suggested — She  Stoops  to  Con- 
quer— and  that  title  was  agreed  upon.'  Here  the  writer 
of  the  Memoirs  lapses  into  condescension.  In  the  light 
of  what  posterity  has  meted  out  to  each  dramatist,  his 
patronage  of  Goldsmith  has  an  amusing  aspect.  'When,' 
he  says,  'I  perceived  an  embarrassment  in  his  manner 
towards  me,  which  I  could  readily  account  for,  I  lost 
no  time  to  put  him  at  his  ease,  and  I  flatter  myself  I  was 
successful.  As  my  heart  was  ever  warm  towards  my  con- 
temporaries, I  did  not  counterfeit,  but  really  felt  a  cordial 
interest  in  his  behalf,  and  I  had  soon  the  pleasure  to 
perceive  that  he  credited  me  for  my  sincerity — "You  and 
I,"  said  he,  "have  very  different  motives  for  resorting 
to  the  stage.  I  write  for  money,  and  care  little  about 
fame — "  I  was  touched  by  this  melancholy  confession,  and 
from  that  moment  busied  myself  assiduously  amongst  all 
my  connexions  in  his  cause.' 

The  tale  told  by  Cumberland  of  the  first  night  of  the 
play  has  given  all  the  biographers  of  Goldsmith  a  useful 
weapon  against  the  veracity  of  the  sentimental  dramatist. 
The  objections  to  the  production  of  She  Stoops  to  Con- 
quer, Cumberland  writes,  were  numerous,  but  Colman 
was  at  length  overborne  by  Johnson,  and  the  'eccentric 
production'  was  given  a  stage.  Cumberland,  who  pic- 
tures Goldsmith's  friends  as  earnestly  fighting  for  a  for- 
lorn hope,  describes  the  dinner  at  the  Shakespeare 
Tavern  before  the  play,  with  Johnson  as  the  leader  of 
'a  phalanx  of  North-British  predetermined  applauders.' 
The  conduct  of  the  party  at  the  theatre  was  regulated  as 
if  for  a  difficult  campaign.  'We  had  amongst  us,'  says 
Cumberland,  'a  very  worthy  and  efficient  member  .  .  . 
Adam  Drummond,  of  amiable  memory,  who  was  gifted 
by  nature  with  the  most  sonorous,  and  at  the  same  time 


124  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

the  most  contagious,  laugh,  that  ever  echoed  from  the 
human  lungs.  The  neighing  of  the  horse  of  the  son  of 
Hytaspes  was  a  whisper  to  it;  the  whole  thunder  of  the 
theatre  could  not  drown  it.  This  kind  and  ingenuous 
friend  fairly  forewarned  us  that  he  knew  no  more  when 
to  give  his  fire  than  the  cannon  did,  that  was  planted  on 
a  battery.  He  desired  therefore  to  have  a  flapper  at  his 
elbow,  and  I  had  the  honour  to  be  deputed  to  that 
office.'  So  hearty  was  the  laughter,  according  to  Cum- 
berland, that  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  became  almost  a 
'secondary  object.'  'But  we  carried  our  play  through,' 
he  concludes,  'and  triumphed  not  only  over  Colman's 
judgment,  but  our  own.' 

Forster  and  Prior  reply  bitterly  to  this  story.  Forster 
declares  that  Cumberland  has  described  a  'jumble  of  a 
party,'30  that  could  never  have  been  got  together,  a  proof 
being  the  mention  of  Fitzherbert  who  was  already 
dead;  that  he  has  'unblushingly  mis-stated  the  known 
opinions  of  Johnson  and  the  rest  in  connection  with  the 
play' ;  and  that  'it  is  Sir  Fretful  good-humouredly  describ- 
ing the  success  of  a  brother  dramatist.'  Forster  also 
says  that  the  papers  of  the  next  day  report  Cumberland 
'to  have  been  seen  as  manifestly  miserable.'  Prior 
denies,  with  a  show  of  evidence,  the  truth  of  Cumber- 
land's story,  and  thinks  it  unlikely  that  a  rival  of  Gold- 
smith's should  be  of  the  party  planning  the  play's  success. 

It  was  natural  that  stories  should  gather  about  the 
leaders  of  the  sentimental  school  whose  hopes  were  some- 
what dampened  by  the  success  of  She  Stoops  to  Conquer. 
Cumberland  rs  described  as  'looking  glum,'31  and  a  hiss 

30  Forster,  Life  of  Goldsmith,  416. 

31  Moore,  Life  of  Oliver  Goldsmith,  407. 


DRAM A TIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— GOLDSMITH    125 

was  attributed  in  turn  to  Cumberland,  Kelly,  and  Mac- 
pherson.32  The  following  travesty  of  the  supposed  fate 
of  the  writers  of  sentimental  comedy  was  published  in 
the  papers  of  the  day:  'On  Monday,  between  the  hours 
of  six  and  nine  in  the  evening,  Miss  Sententia  Horn- 
Book,  a  young  lady  particularly  known  at  the  theatre, 
was  suddenly  taken  ill  and  her  life  is  despaired  of.  Her 
friends,  who  during  the  course  of  her  short  existence, 
have  been  perpetually  crying  about  her,  will  probably 
say  on  this  occasion  like  Laertes, 

Too  much  of  water  hast  thou  had,  Ophelia, 
And  therefore  I  forbid  my  tears. 

This  sudden  calamity  is  said  to  have  been  brought  on 
by  the  prescription  of  one  Dr.  Goldsmith,  a  name  which 
we  do  not  recollect  to  have  met  with  in  the  list  of  those 
who  destroy  either  with  or  without  a  license.  Mr. 

C d,  Mr.  K y,»3  Mrs.  G hs,34  Mrs.  L x,35 

Mr.  O—  — n  (O'Brien),36  are  sending  hourly  to  inquire 
after  her;  because  when  she  dies,  as  the  proverb  says, 
they  may  quake  for  fear.  On  the  third  night  of  the 
comedy  the  following  appeared — 

32  Forster,  Life  of  Goldsmith,  416.    A  story  was  current  that  Cumber- 
land told  Charlotte  Lennox  to  hiss  a  rival  play.     See  Boswell,  Life  of 
Johnson,  Hill  ed.,  4.10,  foot-note. 

33  Hugh  Kelly,   a   leader  of  the  sentimental  school  of  drama.     False 
Delicacy  and  A  School  for  Wives  are  comedies  typical  of  Kelly. 

34  Probably  Elizabeth  Griffith.     She  wrote  seven  plays,  all  of  a  senti- 
mental character. 

35  Charlotte  Lennox,  born  in  America,  author  of  various  poems,  novels, 
and  plays. 

86  William  O'Brien,  an  actor  of  note,  and  author  of  Cross  Purposes 
and  The  Rival,  both  adaptations  from  the  French. 


126  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

At  Dr.  Goldsmith's  merry  play, 
All  the  spectators  laugh,  they  say  ; 
The  assertion,  Sir,  I  must  deny, 
For  Cumberland  and  Kelly  cry. 
Ride,  si  sapis.'37 

By  all  evidence  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  balance 
swings  away  from  truthfulness  and  generosity  in  Cum- 
berland. The  testimony  of  Prior  and  Northcote  cannot 
be  disregarded.  Cumberland,  moreover,  ignores  the 
marked  success  of  She  Stoops  to  Conquer;  the  tone 
of  his  narrative  is  too  complacent,  were  Goldsmith  the 
humblest  of  dramatists.  The  whole  matter  may  be  best 
understood  by  remembering  that  Goldsmith  and  Cum- 
berland were  rivals  in  the  two  bitterly  contending  forms 
of  comedy. 

No  lover  of  the  literary  circle  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury can  fail  to  regard  Goldsmith's  Retaliation  with 
gratitude.  By  it  personalities  are  illumined  as  nowhere 
else  save  in  the  Life  of  Johnson.  A  passing  foot-note 
has  often  sufficed  to  identify  the  Richard  Cumberland 
celebrated  in  the  poem.  He  was,  we  are  told,  the  author 
of  The  West  Indian.  But  so  delicate,  so  penetrating  a 
bit  of  portraiture  as  Goldsmith  has  bestowed  upon  his 
rival,  is  worthy  of  more  observation.  Let  us  listen  to 
Cumberland's  own  eulogium.  Into  it  he  has  infused 
much  of  his  nature, — his  kindliness,  his  ambition,  and  his 
vanity : 

'As  the  life  of  poor  Oliver  Goldsmith  was  now  fast 
aproaching  to  its  period,  I  conclude  my  account  of  him 
with  gratitude  for  the  epitaph  he  bestowed  on  me  in  his 
poem  called  Retaliation.  It  was  upon  a  proposal  started 
by  Edmund  Burke,  that  a  party  of  friends,  who  had  dined 

37  Prior,  Life  of  Goldsmith,  2.398. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— GOLDSMITH    127 

together  at  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds'  and  my  house,  should 
meet  at  the  St.  James  Coffee-House,  which  accordingly 
took  place,  and  was  occasionally  repeated  with  much  fes- 
tivity and  good  fellowship.  Dr.  Barnard,  Dean  of 
Derry,38  a  very  amiable  and  old  friend  of  mine,  Dr. 
Douglas,  since  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  Johnson,  David  Gar- 
rick,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Oliver  Goldsmith,  Edmund 
and  Richard39  Burke,  Hickey,40  Whiteford,41  with  two 
or  three  others  constituted  our  party.  At  one  of  these 
meetings  an  idea  was  suggested,  of  extemporary  epitaphs 
upon  the  parties  present;  pen  and  ink  were  called  for,  and 
Garrick  off  hand  wrote  an  epitaph  with  a  good  deal  of 
humour  upon  poor  Goldsmith,  who  was  the  first  in  jest, 
as  he  proved  to  be  in  reality,  that  we  committed  to  the 
grave.  The  dean  also  gave  him  an  epitaph,  and  Sir 
Joshua  illuminated  the  dean's  verses  with  a  sketch  of 
his  bust  in  pen  and  ink  inimitably  caricatured.  Neither 
Johnson,  nor  Burke  wrote  any  thing,  and  when  I  per- 
ceived Oliver  was  rather  sore,  and  seemed  to  watch  me 
with  that  kind  of  attention,  which  indicated  his  expecta- 
tion of  something  in  the  same  kind  of  burlesque  with 
their's,  I  though  it  time  to  press  the  joke  no  further,  and 
wrote  a  few  couplets  at  a  side  table,  which  when  I  had 
finished  and  was  called  up  by  the  company  to  exhibit, 
Goldsmith  with  much  agitation  besought  me  to  spare  him, 

38  Thomas  Barnard,  successively  Dean  of  Derry,  1774,  Bishop  of  Kil- 
laloe,  1782,  and  Bishop  of  Limerick,  1794. 

39  A  younger  brother  of  Edmund  Burke. 

40  'Honest  Tom  Hickey,'  an  Irish  lawyer. 

41  Caleb  Whitefoord,  a  diplomatist.     He  was  noted  for  his  wit.     See 
Retaliation  and  Wilkie,  Letter  of  Introduction.    At  the  Retaliation  party, 
Whiteford  wrote  two  epitaphs  at  the  expense  of  Goldsmith   and   Cum- 
berland, with  which  they  were  both  so  displeased  that  he  did  not  attend 
at  the   next  meeting.     He   addressed   an   apology  in   verse  to  Reynolds. 
See  Northcote's  Memoirs  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Philadelphia,  1817, 106-7. 


128  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

and  I  was  about  to  tear  them,  when  Johnson  wrested  them 
out  of  my  hand,  and  in  a  loud  voice  read  them  at  the 
table.  I  have  now  lost  all  recollection  of  them,  and  in 
fact  they  were  little  worth  remembering,  but  as  they  were 
serious  and  complimentary,  the  effect  they  had  upon  Gold- 
smith was  the  more  pleasing  for  being  so  entirely 
unexpected.  The  concluding  line,  which  is  the  only  one  I 
can  call  to  mind,  was — 

All  mourn  the  poet,  I  lament  the  man — 

This  I  recollect,  because  he  repeated  it  several  times,  and 
seemed  much  gratified  by  it.  At  our  next  meeting  he 
produced  his  epitaphs  as  they  stand  in  the  little  posthu- 
mous poem  above-mentioned,  and  this  was  the  last  time 
he  ever  enjoyed  the  company  of  his  friends.' 

Such  is  Cumberland's  account  of  Retaliation.  He 
refers  to  Goldsmith  slightingly;  he  characterizes  Retalia- 
tion as  'the  little  posthumous  poem' ;  and  he  gives  no  hint 
that  he  saw  an  ironical  meaning  in  the  lines.  Was  it 
possible  that  he  thought  Goldsmith  reverenced  him  as 
'The  Terence  of  England,  the  mender  of  hearts'?  Did 
he  believe  the  poet  wholly  ingenuous  when  he  heard 
Retaliation  reach  its  climax  in  the  lines : 

Say  was  it  that  vainly  directing  his  crew 
To  find  out  men's  virtues,  and  finding  them  few, 
Quite  sick  of  pursuing  each  troublesome  elf, 
He  grew  lazy  at  Jast  and  drew  from  himself? 

It  would  seem  that  this  answer  to  the  question  should 
be  an  unconditional  no.  Yet  there  is  reason  to  believe  that 
Cumberland  thought  the  lines  unalloyed  gold.  He  may 
have  felt  that  his  soft  verses  of  the  previous  meeting 
had  disarmed  his  rival;  his  own  sense  of  superiority  to 
Goldsmith  may  not  have  allowed  him  to  doubt  of  the 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— GOLDSMITH    129 

latter's  attitude  towards  himself.  His  acknowledgment 
'with  gratitude'  to  Goldsmith,  in  the  Memoirs,  has  been 
pointed  out  by  the  latter's  biographers  as  a  supreme 
example  of  Cumberland's  vanity,  and  blindness  to  rail- 
lery. 'Had  Cumberland  seen  through  Retaliation/  says 
Moore,  'he  would  not  have  been  so  generous  in  his  sub- 
sequent references  to  Goldsmith.  During  the  thirty-five 
years  that  lapsed  between  the  publication  of  the  lines 
and  his  death  the  news  had  not  reached  him  that  they 
were  not  to  be  taken  seriously.'42  So  Forster  declares 
that  Cumberland  was  in  reality  gravely  grateful  to  Gold- 
smith for  having  laughed  at  him,43  and  Mrs.  Thrale  says 
that  Cumberland  alone  of  all  the  world  did  not  realize 
the  import  of  the  lines.44  That  the  verses  are  ironical, 
most  readers  will  agree.  The  interpretation  of  them 
as  the  subtlest  satire  is  too  just,  too  satisfactory,  to  be 
imaginative.  But  that  Cumberland,  in  egregious  vanity, 
accepted  the  poem  as  an  accurate  portrait  of  himself  is 
by  no  means  certain.  Fanny  Burney  believed  the  lines 
to  be  a  good  sketch  of  Cumberland's  benevolent  and 
kindly  side.  It  is  conceivable  that  Cumberland,  perceiv- 
ing the  ironical  interpretation  of  the  poem,  chose  to  read 
no  malice  into  it,  but  accepted  it  along  with  the  portraits 
of  Garrick  and  the  others,  as  a  kindly  outline  sharply 
touched  with  the  writer's  wit,  but  concealing  no  real 
venom.  As  for  Moore's  statement  that  Cumberland's 
kindness  to  Goldsmith  in  the  Memoirs  proves  his  blind- 
ness to  the  meaning  of  the  lines,  it  may  be  said  that 
Goldsmith  is  by  no  means  handled  gently  by  Cumber- 
land. His  account  of  the  first  night  of  She  Stoops  to 
Conquer  can  hardly  be  called  kindly,  and  his  criticism 

42  Life  of  Goldsmith,  226. 

**Ibid.,  380. 

"Boaden,  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  John  Philip  Kemble,  1825  ed.,  1.369. 


130  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

of  Goldsmith's  non-dramatic  work  is  just,   but  hardly 
fulsome. 

Cumberland's  'gratitude'  to  Goldsmith  must  have  per- 
sisted, for  in  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  August, 
1778,  we  find  his  Poetical  Epistle  to  Dr.  Goldsmith,  or 
Supplement  to  his  'Retaliation.'  This  poem  is  a  rather 
unfortunate  effort.  It  lacks  wit,  and  its  language  is  in 
the  authour's  most  pompous  vein: 

Doctor,  according  to  our  wishes, 

You've  character'd  us  all  in  dishes, 

Served  up  a  sentimental  treat, 

Or  various  emblematic  meat. 

And  now  it's  time,  I  trust,  you'll  think 

Your  company  should  have  some  drink. 

Douglas,  'fraught  with  learned  stock,'  Johnson,  'with 
melting  heart  but  look  austere,'  'dear  Garrick,'  Burke, 
Barnard,  and  the  others  are  all  celebrated.  The  lines  to 
Reynolds,  which  Northcote  says  'certainly  savour  much  of 
their  author,'  follow: 

Pour  forth  to  Reynolds  without  stint 
Rich  Burgundy  of  ruby  tint ; 
If  e'en  his  colors  chance  to  fade 
This  brilliant  hue  'shall  come  in  aid, 
With  ruddy  light  refresh  the  faces, 
And  warm  the  bosoms  of  the  Graces. 

The  poem  ends  with  the  lines  to  Goldsmith : 

Now,  Doctor,  you're  an  honest  sticker, 
So  take  your  glass,  and  choose  your  liquor. 
Wilt  have  it  steep'd  in  Alpine  snows, 
Or  damask'd  at  Silenus'  nose  ? 
With  Wakefield's  Vicar  sip  your  tea 
Or  to  Thalia  drink  with  me  ? 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— GOLDSMITH   131 

Retaliation  and  its  supplement  also  brought  from  Dean 
Barnard  more  verses  addressed  To  Oliver  Goldsmith  and 
Richard  Cumberland: 

Dear  Noll  and  dear  Dick,  since  you've  made  us  so  merry, 

Accept  the  best  thanks  of  the  poor  Dean  of  Derry! 

Though  I  here  must  confess  that  your  meat  and  your  wine 

Are  not  to  my  taste,  though  they're  both  very  fine; 

For  Sherry's  a  liquor  monastic,  you  own — 

Now  there's  nothing  I  hate  so  as  drinking  alone: 

It  may  do  for  your  Monks,  or  your  Curates  and  Vicars, 

But  for  my  part,  I'm  fond  of  more  sociable  liquors. 

Your  Ven'son's  delicious,  though  too  sweet  your  sauce  is 

Sed  non  ego  maculis  offendar  paucis 

So  soon  as  you  please  you  may  serve  me  a  dish  up, 

But  instead  of  your  Sherry,  pray  make  me  a — Bishop. 

Verbiage  as  all  this  was,  it  brought  Cumberland  into 
closer  touch  with  Goldsmith.  He  could  not  fail  to  recog- 
nize, to  some  degree,  the  poet's  genius,  and  when  the 
latter  did  not  encroach  upon  the  drama,  Cumberland  was 
mildly  appreciative.  'There  is,'  Cumberland  says, 
'something  in  Goldsmith's  prose,  that  to  my  ear  is  uncom- 
monly sweet  and  harmonious;  it  is  clear,  simple,  easy  to 
be  understood;  we  never  want  to  read  his  period  twice 
over  except  for  the  pleasure  it  bestows;  obscurity  never 
calls  us  back  to  a  repetition  of  it.'  Cumberland  denied, 
however,  that  Goldsmith  was  a  real  poet  on  the  ground 
that  he  had  written  no  poem  which  might  be  called  a 
magnificent  whole.'  'The  Deserted  Village,  Traveller 
and  Hermit,'  he  writes,  are  'all  specimens  beautiful  as 
such,  but  they  are  only  birds'  eggs  on  a  string,  and  eggs 
of  small  birds  too.'  'I  remember  him/  says  Cumber- 
land, 'when  in  his  chamber  in  the  Temple,  he  shewed  me 


132  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

the  beginning  of  his  Animated  Nature;**  it  was  with  a 
sigh,  such  as  genius  draws,  when  hard  necessity  diverts 
it  from  its  bent  to  drudge  for  bread.'  In  his  story  of  the 
Vicar  of  Wakefield,  as  he  had  it  from  Johnson,  Cumber- 
land pictured  Goldsmith  in  danger  of  being  compelled  to 
marry  his  landlady  to  square  a  debt  of  a  few  pounds, 
until  Johnson  luckily  examined  the  manuscript  of  the 
novel.  This  Prior  declares  apocryphal,  and  says  that 
Cumberland  misrepresents  'the  sum  received  for  it,  and 
even  what  every  one  of  common  knowledge  on  literary 
matters  knew  the  name  of  the  bookseller  to  whom  sold.'40 
Cumberland  closes  his  account  of  Goldsmith  in  the 
same  vein  of  kindly  tolerance:  'Goldsmith  had  the  joy 
of  finding  his  ingenious  work  succeed  beyond  his  hopes, 
and  from  that  time  began  to  place  a  confidence  in  the 
resources  of  his  talents,  which  thenceforward  enabled  him 
to  keep  his  station  in  society,  and  cultivate  the  friendship 
of  many  eminent  persons,  who,  whilst  they  smiled  at  his 
eccentricities,  esteemed  him  for  his  genius  and  good 
qualities.'  It  is  difficult  to  endure  this  tone  of  Cumber- 
land's, but  it  should  be  remembered  that  posterity  had 
not  yet  decreed  immortality  for  Goldsmith.  Cumberland 
erred  with  the  rest  of  the  age  in  not  realizing  fully  the 
quality  of  Goldsmith's  genius. 

*5See  Gibbs,  Works  of  Goldsmith,  1.31,  foot-note. 
46  Prior,   Life   of   Goldsmith,  2.396.     See    also  Wyndham,   Annals   of 
Covent  Garden,  1.187,  193. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT  ( Continued). - 

SHERIDAN.— DEATH  OF 

GARRICK 

IN  1775  George  Sackville  Germain,  first  Viscount 
Sackville,  had  been  declared  Secretary  of  State 
for  the  colonies.  Soon  afterwards,  Cumberland  was 
appointed  Secretary  of  the  Board  of  Trade  by  Sackville, 
and  'was  .  .  .  introduced  to  the  commencement  of  a 
friendship,  which  day  by  day  improved,  and  which  no 
word  or  action  of  his  life  to  come  ever  for  an  instant 
interrupted  or  diminished.'  While  with  Sackville,  Cum- 
berland met  Rodney,  and  believed  himself  the  indirect 
cause  of  the  admiral's  rise.  He  saw  Rodney  plan  the 
ruin  of  the  French  fleet  in  manoeuvres  with  'a  parcel  of 
cherry  stones,'  and  heard  him  swear  vehemently  that  he 
would  lay  the  French  admiral's  flag  at  his  sovereign's 
feet. 

The  dramatist  was  now  the  head  of  a  large  family, 
and  his  home  life  was  all  that  could  be  wished.  If  he 
was  'gey  ill  to  live  with'  abroad,  he  was  at  least  a  devoted 
husband  and  a  loyal  father.  Richard,  the  eldest  son, 
after  a  satisfactory  career  at  Westminster,  had  entered 
Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  but  had  later  enrolled  him- 
self in  the  first  regiment  of  foot-guards.  The  second  and 
fourth  sons,  George  and  William,  had  sailed  for 
America.  Charles,  the  third  son,  was  a  member  of  the 
tenth  regiment.  Cumberland  was  proud  of  his  daugh- 
ters. 'The  two  young  ladies,'  wrote  their  cousin,  George 


134 RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Cumberland,  to  his  brother,  'are  amazingly  grown,  but 
Mrs.  Cumberland  younger  and  handsomer  than  either  of 
them/1 

Meanwhile  Cumberland  wrote  for  the  stage,  and 
passed  many  hours  of  the  day  with  the  great  to  whose 
society  he  had  now  ready  access.  Yet  in  all  the  scattered 
records  of  these  days  how  difficult  it  is  to  find  a  friend- 
ship unmarred  by  the  strange  irritability  by  which  we 
come  to  recognize  Cumberland!  Garrick,  his  first  and 
most  valued  friend,  is  now  impatient  with  him;  Gold- 
smith, as  has  been  seen,  cannot  endure  him;  and  his  old 
school-fellow,  George  Colman,  now  hates  him  with 
unswerving  cordiality.  In  the  few  years  immediately  fol- 
lowing the  debut  of  The  West  Indian  he  had  gained  the 
ill  will  of  one  who  had  hitherto  only  regarded  him  with 
amusement.  On  some  unlucky  occasion  he  had  ventured 
to  inform  Horace  Walpole  of  his  dislike  for  Thomas 
Gray.  This  aversion  Cumberland  did  not  see  fit  to  con- 
ceal, even  from  the  elegist's  nearest  friend,  and  it  appears 
throughout  his  writings.  He  has  completed  scarce  a  score 
of  pages  of  the  Memoirs  before  he  smiles  at  a  'meagre 
collection  of  odes  by  Gray,  the  most  costive  of  poets.' 
Even  flattery  bestowed  by  the  poet  upon  his  uncle  Bent- 
ley's  drama,  Philodamus,  was  'outrageously  pedantic,' 
and  the  dignity  of  Retrospection,  a  genuine  poem,  is 
blurred  by  an  ill-timed  and  weak  criticism  of  Gray's  verse. 
Cumberland's  tactlessness  had  won  him  an  implacable 
enemy. 

'Mr.  Cumberland,  the  maker  of  plays,'  sneers  Walpole, 
in  a  letter  to  Mason,  'told  me  lately,  it  was  pity,  Gray's 
letters  were  printed;  they  had  disappointed  him  so 
much.'  Cumberland  had  now  ceased  to  be,  with  the  rest 

1  The  Cumberland  Letters,  160. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— SHERIDAN      135 

of  the  world,  a  passive  offender.  4No  doubt,'  Walpole 
adds,  'he  likes  Sterne's,  and  Shenstone's,  and  Lady  Lux- 
borough's.'2  Mason's  reply  fanned  the  flame :  'I  admire 
Mr.  Cumberland's  rudeness  to  you  exceedingly,  for  to 
condemn  Gray's  letters  to  you  who  had  contributed  so 
much  to  the  collection  was  worse  than  if  he  had  con- 
demned them  to  the  editor.  The  editor  might  be  excused 
in  printing  bad  letters  out  of  defence  and  respect  to  those 
who  furnished  him  with  them.  The  contributors  to  such 
a  collection  could  have  no  such  plea,  but  more  than 
enough  of  this  poor  man,  let  him  go  on  with  his  senti- 
mental comedies,  this  anecdote  shews  he  is  qualified  for 
the  task,  because  it  shews  he  can  have  no  feeling.  Taste 
in  all  cases  is  out  of  the  question.'3 

A  month  after  the  unlucky  talk  Walpole's  rancour  was 
still  active.  'I  felt,'  he  writes  again  to  Mason,  'Mr. 
Cumberland's  folly  so  much,  that  his  impertinence  was 
lost  on  me.  He  has  written  an  ode,  as  he  modestly  calls 
it  in  praise  of  Gray's  odes — charitably  no  doubt  to  make 
the  latter  taken  notice  of.  Garrick  read  it  tother  night 
at  Mr.  Beauclerc's,  who  comprehended  so  little  what  it 
was  about,  that  he  desired  Garrick  to  read  it  backwards, 
and  try  if  it  would  not  be  equally  good;  he  did  and  it 
was.'4 

Careless  words  secured  enmity  for  Cumberland,  but 
theatrical  enterprises  plunged  him  into  an  abyss  of  diffi- 

2  Letters  of  Horace  Walpole,  Toynbee  ed.,  9.288. 

3  Correspondence  of  Horace  Walpole  and  William  Mason,  Mitford  ed., 
1.219. 

*Ibid.,  9.306.  It  was  to  this  reading  backwards  that  Dean  Barnard 
alluded  in  his  verses — 

The  art  of  pleasing,  teach  me,  Garrick; 
Thou  who  reversest  odes  Pindaric 
A  second  time  read  o'er. 


i36  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

culties.  He  had  long  planned  to  write  a  tragedy,  a 
species  of  dramatic  composition  in  which  he  did  not 
excel,  upon  an  English  subject.  By  the  fall  of  1776  was 
completed  The  Battle  of  Hastings.  In  September  the 
play  was  offered  to  the  Covent  Garden  management,  but 
was  refused.  Cumberland's  disappointment  was  keen, 
and  he  remained  unsatisfied  with  the  verdict.  He 
appealed  to  Colman  for  a  reading  of  the  tragedy.  'I 
ask  you,'  he  writes,  'as  a  scholar  and  author  of  genius,  to 
read  and  judge  my  piece.  ...  I  have  not  presumption 
enough  on  my  own  behalf,'  he  adds  in  his  most  humble 
tone,  'to  say  that  they  are  not  warranted  in  what  they 
have  done,  neither  am  I  attempting  to  traverse  any 
right  which  is  in  them,  and  which  they  may  properly 
exercise.'  Nevertheless,  Cumberland  protests  that  he 
'was  denied  an  appeal  by  the  very  gentleman,  who  not  a 
week  before  had  exhibited  "The  Man  of  Reason."  '5 
'My  tragedy,'  he  says,  'cost  me  great  pains  and  much 
attention;  hath  been  many  years  in  hand;  is  entirely  origi- 
nal in  plan,  popular  in  its  subject,  and  free  of  all  imita- 
tion.' Having  praised  his  own  play,  Cumberland  attacks 
his  enemies :  'The  opinion  of  men  exceedingly  high  in  the 
republic  of  letters,'  he  boasts,  'have  been  unanimous,  and 
more  than  warmly,  in  its  favour.  You  will  not  wonder, 
if  such  authority  makes  me  hesitate  about  acquiescing 
under  the  veto  of  a  junta  of  proprietors,  whose  education 
has  not  started  with  the  Muses,  and  whose  habits  have 
been  little  calculated  to  make  them  critics  in  literature.  I 
should  add  that  my  piece  was  accepted  by  Mr.  Garrick, 
and  had  a  place,  for  this  season,  but  was  withdrawn  by  me 
for  reasons  not  worth  troubling  you  with.'6 

5  Kelly's  Man  of  Reason  was  acted  at  Covent  Garden  in  1776. 

6  Peake,  Memoirs  of  the  Colman  Family,  1.417-8. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— SHERIDAN      137 

This  was  a  weak  letter,  and  gained  nothing  but  evasion 
from  the  tactful  Colman.  Behind  the  screen  of  a  past 
quarrel  with  the  Covent  Garden  management  he  declined 
to  read  the  play,  and  urged  Cumberland  to  rest  satisfied 
with  the  good  opinions  which  he  had  already  had.7  He 
refused  to  read  the  play  on  the  rather  slight  ground  that 
he,  too,  was  at  odds  with  Covent  Garden.  'My  suffrage,' 
so  ran  his  reply,  4in  favour  of  your  tragedy  would  rather 
be  ascribed  to  motives  of  ill  will  to  them,  than  a  love  of 
justice,  and  a  laudable  zeal  for  the  honour  of  literature. 
There  is  not  another  man  so  peculiarly  situated.  I 
flatter  myself,  therefore,  that  you  will,  on  these  consid- 
erations, excuse  my  declining  to  read  and  judge  of  your 
tragedy,  whose  merits  may  be  rested  so  much  more  con- 
fidently on  the  testimony  of  those  respectable  opinions 
which  you  have  already  collected.'8 

Although  Garrick  had  already  retired  from  the  stage, 
he  was  evidently  persuaded  by  Cumberland  to  interest 
himself  in  The  Battle  of  Hastings.  Universal  mender- 
of-plays  as  he  was,  he  corrected,  revised,  and  amended 
until  Cumberland  mustered  courage  to  present  the  play 
to  Sheridan,  then  the  newly  made  manager  of  Drury 
Lane  Theatre.  It  is  said  that  the  leader  of  sentimental 
comedy  was  introduced  to  Sheridan  by  a  letter  from 
Garrick.  Soon  we  learn  of  Cumberland's  begging  the 
new  manager  to  stage  his  tragedy. 

Sheridan's  facile  genius  was  not  yet  at  its  height,  but 
youth,  consciousness  of  great  powers,  and  a  capricious 
temperament,  made  him  rule  Drury  Lane  without 
mercy.  His  treatment  of  Cumberland  exhibits  the 
arrogance  of  a  dictator.  A  number  of  letters  exist, 

7  Peake,  Memoirs  of  the  Colman  Family,  1.419. 

8  Posthumous   Letters   to   Francis    Colman,   and   George    Colman,   the 
Elder,  223. 


138  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

showing  the  lengths  to  which  Cumberland  went  to 
obtain  a  hearing  for  his  new  play.  The  first  of  these  is 
an  humble  one,  asking  Sheridan  to  give  the  tragedy  his 
consideration.  'I  ought  and  should  have  despaired  of 
its  merits/  writes  Cumberland,  'if  I  had  not  had  a  pretty 
long  and  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  stage,  and  what 
produces  stage  effect ;  if  I  had  not  given  infinite  pains  and 
attention  to  this  composition  for  many  years ;  and,  above 
all,  if  I  had  not  been  supported  by  the  unanimous  suf- 
frages of  every  person  to  whose  judgment  I  have  com- 
mitted it.'  After  this  account  of  the  tragedy,  Cumberland 
says,  with  abjectness  enough  to  satisfy  the  most  tyrannical 
manager,  and  with  an  offer  to  dispense  with  the  hono- 
rarium :  'I  beseech  you,  therefore,  Sir,  to  read  it  with  as 
much  malice  as  you  are  capable  of,  considering  that  an 
author  is  an  ill  judge  in  his  own  cause/9 

To  this  epistle  Sheridan  did  not  apparently  reply. 
The  evasive  Colman  had  asked  about  the  fate  of  the 
tragedy,  and  Cumberland  says :  'I  was  forced  to  add,  that 
having  written  a  letter  on  Friday  se'nnight  to  Mr.  Sheri- 
dan in  the  most  candid  and  fair  terms  I  could  devise,  he 
had  not  to  this  moment  acknowledged  the  receipt  of  it.'10 
At  this  treatment  Cumberland's  irritation  showed  through 
his  customary  veneer  of  politeness.  'We  both  agreed,' 
he  says  referring  to  Sheridan,  'that  such  a  conduct  must 
be  altered,  or  it  would  operate  to  his  ruin.  .  .  .  My 
experience  with  the  world  assures  me  that  there  is  no  man 
who  can  keep  his  place  in  the  good  will  and  esteem  of 
those  he  has  to  deal  with,  if  he  so  totally  throws  of  the 
forms  of  politeness^  Cumberland  was  assuredly  in  the 
right,  and  Fitzgerald,  in  his  Lives  of  the  Sheridans,  con- 

9  Fitzgerald,  Lives  of  the  Sheridans,  1.156,  foot-note. 
^Ibid.,  1.155,  foot-note. 
"  Ibid.,  1.156,  foot-note. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— SHERIDAN      139 

victs  Sheridan  of  unpardonable  rudeness  in  his  treatment 
of  the  playwright.12 

In  the  end  Sheridan  accepted  the  play.  Then  followed 
a  tumultuous  season  of  rehearsal  and  preparation.  Sheri- 
dan loathed  the  heavy  tragedy;  the  performers  had  no 
confidence  in  it;  and  Garrick  regretted  his  intercession. 
Under  the  actor's  pen,  revision  and  deletion  continued. 
We  have  Cumberland's  piqued  thanks  for  Garrick's  can- 
did opinion  of  an  epilogue.  The  author  encloses  another, 
fortified  with  a  host  of  apologies.  It  was  written,  he 
swears,  'post-haste  directly  upon  reading  Garrick's  let- 
ter.' For  other  suggestions  from  his  friend  the  drama- 
tist is  eternally  grateful.  Meanwhile  Sheridan's  cool 
insolence  tortures  Cumberland,  and  the  entire  corre- 
spondence reflects  the  perturbed  nerves  of  all  connected 
with  the  unfortunate  play.  Although  he  boasts  of  its 
submission,  the  dramatist's  temper  hangs  by  a  thread: 
'We  have,'  he  writes  Garrick,  'as  yet  had  no  rehearsal, 
nor  can  I  tell  when  we  shall.  .  .  .  Without  some  prudence 
and  patience  I  should  never  have  got  the  ladies  cordially 
into  their  business,  nor  should  I  not  only  have  avoided  a 
jar  with  Mr.  Smith,  but  so  far  have  impressed  him  in  my 
favour  as  to  draw  an  offer  from  him  (though  too  late) 
of  taking  the  part  of  Edwin.'  A  petulant  postscript  adds : 
'No  news  whatever.  Pray  burn  the  copy  of  my  epilogue.'13 

Sheridan's  indifference  to  Cumberland  and  to  his 
tragedies  is  clear  in  a  letter  from  the  latter  to  Garrick: 
'I  read,'  writes  Cumberland,  'the  tragedy  in  the  ears  of 
the  performers  on  Friday  morning;  I  was  highly  flattered 
by  my  audience,  but  your  successor  in  management  is  not 
a  representative  of  your  polite  attention  to  authors  on 

12  Fitzgerald,  Lives  of  the  Sheridans,  1.156. 

13  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  2.283. 


i4o  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

such  occasions,  for  he  came  in  yawning  at  the  fifth  act, 
with  no  other  apology  than  having  sate  up  two  nights 
running.'14  Garrick  has  evidently  cautioned  Cumberland 
against  offending  Sheridan,  for  Cumberland  writes  with 
some  complacence :  'Thank  you  for  your  advice ;  I  per- 
suade myself  I  have  anticipated  it,  and  shall  certainly  not 
lose  the  battle  for  want  of  temper.'15  On  another  day 
he  has  'called  ...  on  Mr.  Sheridan  and  quickened 
him,  but  all  in  good  humor  and  perfect  harmony.'16 
A  letter,  written  presumably  the  next  evening,  is  still 
more  hopeful:  'I  have  this  morning,  my  dear  friend, 
rehearsed  the  "Battle,"  and  a  brave  battle  we  made. 
Madam  Yates  rehearsed  without  book  her  whole  part; 
all  was  harmony,  zeal,  and  good  will :  nothing  lagged  or 
hobbled  in  the  whole;  and  the  new  corrections  (especially 
the  finale  to  the  fourth  act)  were  applauded.  The  fifth 
act,  which  was  long,  is  now  very  brilliant,  and  I  am  well 
contented  to  take  my  trial.'17 

Since  Garrick  had  formed  The  Battle  of  Hastings,  this 
turn  for  the  better  must  have  pleased  him.  It  is  certain 
that  he  was  interested  in  The  Battle  of  Hastings,  but 
whether  from  real  belief  in  its  worth,  or  from  a  desire  to 
befriend  Cumberland,  is  uncertain.  'It  has  been  said,' 
remarks  Davies,  'that  Mr.  Garrick,  after  he  had  left 
the  stage,  recommended  the  Battle  of  Hastings  to  Mr. 
Sheridan  with  great  warmth,  from  an  earnest  desire  to 
oblige  the  author,  who,  on  this  occasion  did  not  seem 
to  have  a  proper  sense  of  Mr.  Garrick's  friendship.  .  .  .' 
The  patron  was  noncommittal  in  expressing  an  opinion 
of  the  play:  'Mr.  Garrick  was  asked  by  several  persons 

14  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  2.285. 

15  Ibid.,  2.283. 
i«  Ibid.,  2.284. 
17  Ibid.,  2.286. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— SHERIDAN      141 

his  judgment  of  that  tragedy;  his  constant  answer  was, 
Sir,  what  all  the  world  says,  must  be  true.  No  explana- 
tion of  his  meaning  could  be  drawn  from  him.'18  It  is, 
in  all  events,  clear  that  Garrick  was  disgusted  with  the 
correspondence  relative  to  The  Battle  of  Hastings,  for 
we  find  at  the  end  of  this  a  bit  of  damning  evidence : 
'Endorsed,  Mr.  Cumberland's  letters  to  me  when  at 
Althorp,  in  Dec.  1777,  about  "The  Battle  of  Hastings;" 
— a  true  picture  of  the  man/19 

So  the  weeks  passed,  and,  more  than  two  years  after 
it  was  written,  on  January  24,  1778,  at  Drury  Lane 
Theatre,  The  Battle  of  Hastings  was  acted.  It  had  been 
ushered  into  the  world  only  by  the  persistence  of  Cum- 
berland; Sheridan  and  Garrick  stood  by,  disgusted 
sponsors,  disliking  more  than  ever  both  the  play  and 
Cumberland  himself.  The  play  was  acted  twelve  times, 
but  real  success  was  despaired  of  from  the  first.  Friendly 
comments  were  few,  though  George  Cumberland  wrote 
his  brother,  Richard  Denison  Cumberland,  that  even  if 
'no  friend  to  slaughter  and  destruction,'  he  thought  it 
'a  pleasing  tragedy.'20  The  critique  of  The  Town  and 
Country  Magazine  for  January  was,  perhaps,  the  most 
tolerant :  'The  Battle  of  Hastings  is  very  far  from  being 
a  contemptible  production;  and,  with  the  aid  of  a  pruning 
knife  .  .  .  we  hope  to  see  it  in  far  greater  perfection/ 
Such  tributes  seem  rare  in  the  storm  of  universal  vitupera- 
tion. 'Why,'  says  Scot's  Magazine  for  February,  'Mr. 
Cumberland  has  chosen  to  call  this  play  The  battle  of 
Hastings,  we  do  not  see.  To  be  sure  we  hear  something 
of  such  a  battle  in  the  last  act,  but  almost  the  whole  of 
the  tragedy  consists  of  love-scenes  between  a  disguised 

18  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  David  Garrick,  2.274. 

i»  Ibid.,  2.275. 

20  The  Cumberland  Letters,  176. 


142  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

prince,  and  a  couple  of  fond  maidens.  The  Rival  Beau- 
ties would  have  been  a  more  proper  name  for  it.  The 
French  are  blamed  for  filling  their  tragedies  with  love; 
Mr.  Cumberland  appears  inclined  to  keep  them  in 
countenance.' 

When,  some  thirty  years  before,  Cumberland  had 
given  to  Doctor  Nicolls  of  Westminster  a  set  of  plagia- 
rized verses,  his  school-fellows  had  smiled.  Later  the 
critics  of  The  Brothers  and  The  West  Indian  had  dis- 
covered in  these  plays  scenes  and  lines  of  a  strongly 
allusive  character.  But  in  The  Battle  of  Hastings  all 
previous  faults  of  this  nature  were  transcended.  The 
plot  has  echoes  from  all  sentimental  comedy,  and  the 
language  is  steeped  in  the  diction  of  Shakespeare.  Here 
was  an  opportunity  for  the  critics  to  annihilate  their 
enemy.  The  reviewer  of  The  St.  James  Chronicle  of 
January  20  allows  himself  to  be  satirical:  'The  story  15 
wonderful ;  the  Incidents  all  calculated  to  startle,  and  the 
language  all  Daisies  and  Lilies  and  Pinks  and  Roses. 
The  Slips  and  Roots  of  most  of  them  have  been  stolen; 
but  from  a  Garden  where  they  will  not  be  missed,  and 
Author  and  Connoisseurs  may  be  guilty  of  Stealing  and 
not  of  Felony.'  The  London  Review  has  many  malicious 
references  to  'Squire  Cumberland.'  Later  commentators 
have  been  equally  severe. 

'The  coat  of  Joseph,'  says  Biographia  Dramatica,  'and 
the  dress  of  Harlequin,  were  never  composed  of  patch- 
work more  general  than  is  the  style  of  this  performance. 
An  injudicious  application  of  Shakespeare's  phraseology 
throughout  all  parts  of  it,  continually  provokes  a  com- 
parison unfavourable  to  our  present  author.  Add  to 
this,  that  he  has  grossly  violated  the  truth  of  history,  in 
his  representations  of  Edgar  Atheling  and  Harold. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— SHERIDAN      143 

Under  his  hand  they  may  be  said  to  have  exchanged 
characters.  ...  It  was  coolly  received.'21  'A  strange 
incongruous  business/22  says  the  unfriendly  Dibdin,  and 
Davies  declares  that  'The  Battle  of  Hastings  is  what  we 
call  a  Pasticio,  a  work  made  up  of  centos  from  various 
authors,  and  more  particularly  from  Shakespeare.'23 

The  Battle  of  Hastings  has  all  the  faults  of  bad 
tragedy,  and  is,  as  Doran  says,  'as  near  Shakespeare  as 
Ireland's  Fortigern'2*  a  play  hissed  from  the  stage  on  the 
first  night.  The  play  fails  today,  as  in  1778,  by  any 
dramatic  test,  yet  has,  rising  from  its  worst  vice,  one 
virtue.  Out  of  long  periods  of  stiff,  impossible  diction 
occasionally  sounds  the  beat  of  sonorous  and  melodious 
verse.  'The  language,'  says  Scott,  'often  uncommonly 
striking,  has  more  merit  than  the  characters  or  the  plot.'25 

The  failure  of  The  Battle  of  Hastings  justified  Sheri- 
dan's ridicule  of  the  tragedy,  and  confirmed  his  impres- 
sion of  the  play  and  of  its  author.  His  feelings  towards 
Cumberland  now  verged  upon  hearty  contempt;  nor  was 
he  without  resentment  and  anger.  It  is  improbable  that 
Sheridan  had  forgotten  the  sharp  reflections  upon  his 
friends  in  Cumberland's  farce,  The  Note  of  Hand;  more- 
over, other  events  had  increased  his  irritation  against 
the  dramatist  to  the  breaking  point.  In  his  Memoirs  of 
Sheridan  Watkins  says: 

21  Biographia  Dramatica,  3.51. 

22,4  Complete  History  of  the  Stage,  5.275. 

23  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  David  Garrick,  2.275. 

2*  W.  H.  Ireland's  Vortigern  was  an  historical  tragedy,  appearing  at 
Drury  Lane  in  1799.  It  was  an  imposition,  professing  to  be  an  original 
tragedy  of  Shakespeare  found  in  an  old  trunk. 

25  Novels  of  Swift,  Bage  and  Cumberland,  'Prefatory  Memoir  to  Rich- 
ard Cumberland,'  41. 

See  Genest,  6.6,  for  a  comparison  of  The  Battle  of  Hastings  with 
Boyce's  Harold. 


144  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

What  was  the  cause  of  the  quarrel  between  Mr.  Sheridan  and 
Mr.  Cumberland  has  never  been  clearly  stated;  but  the  generally 
accepted  story  at  the  time  was  that  the  former,  in  his  capacity 
of  manager,  rejected  every  piece  Cumberland  offered  at  Drury 
Lane,  which  occasioned  some  sharp  language  on  both  sides;  and 
as  other  literary  persons  had  similar  complaints  against  the  con- 
duct of  the  manager,  a  common  concern  was  made  of  the  injury, 
and  the  newspapers  daily  exhibited  some  severe  criticisms  upon 
theatrical  subjects  and  the  direction  of  Drury  Lane.26 

Sheridan's  disgust  with  Cumberland  was  doubtless 
increased  by  stories  of  Cumberland's  depreciation  of 
The  School  for  Scandal,  when  it  appeared  in  1777.  The 
miscellanies  called  Sheridaniana  give  the  best  narration 
of  this  popular,  but  probably  apocryphal,  tale  of  the  time : 
'When  the  "School  for  Scandal"  came  out,  Cumberland's 
children  prevailed  upon  their  father  to  take  them  to  see 
it; — they  had  the  stage-box — their  father  was  seated 
behind  them;  and  as  the  story  was  told  by  a  gentleman, 
a  friend  of  Sheridan's,  who  was  close  by,  every  time  the 
children  laughed  at  what  was  going  on  on  the  stage,  he 
pinched  them,  and  said,  "What  are  you  laughing  at,  my 
dear  little  folks?  You  should  not  laugh,  my  angels; 
there  is  nothing  to  laugh  at;"  and  then,  in  an  undertone, 
"keep  still,  you  little  dunces."  Sheridan  having  been  told 
of  this  long  afterwards,  said,  "It  was  very  ungrateful  in 
Cumberland  to  have  been  displeased  with  his  poor  chil- 
dren for  laughing  at  my  comedy;  for  I  went  the  other 
night  to  see  his  tragedy,  and  laughed  at  it  from  beginning 
to  end."  m 

2«  Memoirs  of  Sheridan,  1.239. 

27  Sheridaniana',  67.  Compare  Blackwood's  Magazine  for  February, 
1826,  and  Oxberry,  2.32.  The  tragedy  at  which  Sheridan  laughed  was 
generally  supposed  to  be  The  Battle  of  Hastings.  Mudford  points  out 
that  this,  Cumberland's  first  tragedy,  was  not  acted  until  1778.  Unless 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— SHERIDAN      145 

There  were  many  other  stories  of  Cumberland's  un- 
happiness  at  the  success  of  The  School  for  Scandal.  A 
rumour  reached  Sheridan's  ear  that  Cumberland  had 
sneered  at  the  play  in  the  lobby  of  the  theatre,  on  its  first 
night.  'I  gave  my  accuser  proof  positive,'  Cumberland 
says,  in  a  tone  of  rather  loud  protest,  'that  I  was  at  Bath 
during  the  time  of  its  first  run,  never  saw  it  during  its 
first  season,  and  exhibited  my  pocket-journal  in  confirma- 
tion of  my  alibi :  the  gentleman  was  convinced  of  my 
innocence,  but  as  he  had  no  opportunity  of  correcting  his 
libel,  every  body  that  read  it  remains  convinced  of  my 
guilt.' 

Whether  or  not  Sheridan  had  heard  of  Cumberland's 
*d — d  disinheriting  countenance'  at  The  School  for 
Scandal  it  is  evident  that  he  was  irritated  at  Cumberland 
some  time  before  the  acting  of  The  Critic,  for  both  drama- 
tists were  supersensitive,  and  it  is  likely  that  the  jarring 
relations  fomented  a  busy  malice  in  Sheridan's  mind, 
which  reached  its  climax  in  the  immortal  Sir  Fretful.28 
Sheridan's  desire  for  revenge  because  of  real  or  fancied 
affronts  admits  of  no  doubt.  'To  defend  himself,'  says 
The  Westminster  Magazine  for  November,  1779,  'and 
to  be  revenged  on  his  enemies,  he  has  brought  forth  The 
Critick,  in  which  he  has  preached,  and  caricatured  his  old 
Friends  most  outrageously.'  The  Critical  Review  for 
December,  1779,  thinks  that  Sheridan  is  'exceedingly 
angry  with  the  ministry  of  our  theatrical  world,  and 
endeavours,  though  with  no  great  dexterity,  to  hold  them 
forth  to  the  ridicule  and  indignation  of  the  public.'  The 

Sheridan  spoke  of  Timon,  acted  in  1774,  or  referred  to  a  later  perform- 
ance of   The  School  for  Scandal,  the  story  is  factitious.     The  editor  of 
Sheridaniana  thinks  the  tragedy  in  question  The  Carmelite,  acted  in  1784. 
Michael  Kelly  says  that  Sheridan  told  him  this  story. 
28  See  Watkins,  Memoirs  of  Sheridan,  1.237. 


146  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

St.  James  Chronicle  of  March  3,  1779,  after  a  review  of 
Sheridan's  dispute  with  certain  'play  writers,'  says  that 
the  author  of  The  Critic  has  forgotten  their  flattery,  and 
now  attacks  them.  'The  first  Act  ...  is  seemingly  and 
tenderly  directed  at  News-Papers  and  Criticks,  but  most 
pointedly  against  Dramatic  Writers,  mho  are  the 
Authours  very  good  friends.' 

That  Cumberland  was  the  model  from  whom  Sir 
Fretful  Plagiary  was  drawn,  has  been  the  belief  since  the 
first  performance  of  The  Critic.  'Sir  Fretful  Plagiary,' 
says  The  Town  and  Country  Magazine  for  November, 
1779,  'is  drawn  with  a  bold  pencil,  and  the  original  may 
easily  be  traced  by  the  striking  features  of  the  copy,'  and 
Lloyd's  Evening  Post  of  November  i,  1779,  calls  him 
'a  character  whose  outline  is  so  .  .  .  drawn  "that  he  who 
runs  may  read  him!"  The  Lady's  Magazine  for 
November  of  the  same  year,  says:  'Sir  Fretful  Plagiary 
is  soon  after  announced,  and  exhibits  one  of  the  most 
harsh  and  severe  caricatures  that  has  been  attempted 
since  the  days  of  Aristophanes,  of  which  a  celebrated 
sentimental  writer  is  evidently  the  object;  a  great  part  of 
what  is  said  by  his  representative  being  literally  taken 
from  his  usual  conversation,  but  with  very  pointed  and 
keen  additions.'  Watkins  in  his  Memoirs  of  Sheridan 
declares  'that  Cumberland  was  the  principal  object  at 
whom  the  shaft  of  ridicule  was  directed,  could  not  be 
doubted  by  any  who  were  acquainted  with  that  gentleman 
and  his  writings;  and  Mr.  Sheridan,  so  far  from  dis- 
guising his  intention  in  the  application,  took  every  oppor- 
tunity, in  public  and  private,  of  expressing  his  satisfaction 
at  the  mortification  which  it  produced.'29 

Later  critics  echoed  this  opinion.     Sir  Fretful,  says 

29  Watkins,  Memoirs  of  Sheridan,  1.238. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— SHERIDAN      147 


Adolphus,  * .  .  .  was  a  personal  representation  of  a  well- 
known  living  dramatist,'30  and  William  Earle  adds  that 
'the  character  of  Sir  Fretful  Plagiary  was  intended  as  a 
broad  satire  and  faithful  hit  upon  the  strange  peculiarities 
of  Richard  Cumberland.'31 

That  Sheridan  was,  in  one  or  two  places,  thinking  of 
his  experience  of  The  Battle  of  Hastings  in  his  sketch  of 
Sir  Fretful  Plagiary,  can  hardly  be  doubted.  The  Critic 
was  produced  but  a  year  after  the  tragedy,  with  the  his- 
tory of  its  unhappy  juggling  between  the  two  theatres, 
and  its  miserable  failure,  fresh  in  Sheridan's  mind.  'I 
sent  it  to  the  manager  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre  this 
morning,'  says  Sir  Fretful  of  his  play.  If  the  story  of 
Sheridan's  laughter  at  The  Battle  of  Hastings  is  true,  the 
author  of  The  Critic  was  doubtless  thinking  of  this 
tragedy  when  he  makes  Sir  Fretful  say:  'Why,  sir,  for 
aught  I  know,  he  might  take  out  some  of  the  best  things 
in  my  tragedy,  and  put  them  into  his  own  comedy.' 
References  to  plagiarisms  from  Shakespeare  would  never 
be  so  likely  as  after  familiarity  with  this  particular 
tragedy.  'Your  imitations  of  Shakespeare,'  says  Sneer 
to  Sir  Fretful,  'resemble  the  mimicry  of  Falstaff's  page, 
and  are  about  as  near  the  standard  of  the  original.'32 

It  is  not,  however,  certain  that  Sheridan  had  Cumber- 
land exclusively  in  mind  when  he  created  the  character. 

30  Life  of  Bannister,  1.47.  Adolphus  says  that  the  ridicule  of  Cumber- 
land is  not  comparable  to  that  of  Dryden  as  Bayes,  since  Cumberland, 
'known  only  by  his  personal  virtues,  his  moral  writings,  and  a  few  dull 
lines  in  a  series  of  successful  dramatic  productions  would  have  palled 
the  general  audience,  and  probably  excited  some  indignation.'  But  The 
Public  Advertiser  says  that  if  Sir  Fretful  is  drawn  from  nature  'this 
Original  certainly  bids  as  fair  for  as  enduring  ridicule  as  Dryden  in 
Bayes.' 

^Sheridan  and  His  Times,  1.95. 

32  Sheridan,  The  Critic,  1.1. 


i48  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

In  his  capacity  as  manager,  it  is  probable  that  many  a 
tiresome  playwright  ruffled  his  nerves.  At  this  very  time 
he  was  at  swords'  points  with  Colman,  and  it  is  quite 
possible  that  the  first  act  of  The  Critic  satirizes  types 
rather  than  individuals.  The  conclusion  follows  naturally 
that  the  sketch  of  Sir  Fretful  Plagiary  may  be  eclectic,  and 
that  Cumberland,  Colman,  and  their  brother  dramatists 
all  contributed  features  for  the  portrait.  That  Cumber- 
land was  the  man,  says  one  critic,  'Sheridan  has  almost 
given  his  assent.'33  Such  a  criticism  virtually  says  to  the 
world,  'You  may  call  this  figure  Cumberland,  if  you  wish/ 
and  has  rather  the  air  of  naming  a  composite  photograph 
after  its  completion,  than  of  having  reproduced  a  definite 
man.  'Whether  Sir  Fretful  Plagiary  is  drawn  from 
Nature,  or  is  only  the  Coinage  of  Fancy,  we  will  not  deter- 
mine,' says  The  Public  Advertiser  of  November  i,  1779, 
and  in  a  collection  of  dramatic  data  called  The  Eccentri- 
cities of  John  Edwin,  published  in  1791,  occurs  a  passage 
which  may  approximate  truth  in  the  matter :  'The  common 
idea  that  Sir  FRETFUL  PLAGIARY  was  intended  as  a  satire 
on  Mr.  CUMBERLAND  is  fallacious,  as  no  particular  per- 
son was  alluded  to — Some  of  the  performers  imagining 
it  was  a  satire  on  the  elder  COLMAN,  Mr.  SHERIDAN  ex- 
pressed a  wish  that  it  should  rather  be  considered  as  a 
likeness  of  CUMBERLAND,  both  characters  having  openly 
affected  to  treat  the  news-paper  Editors  with  contempt, 
while  they  secretly  trembled  at  their  power.'34 

Whether  or  not  he  was  the  original  of  Sir  Fretful, 
Cumberland  paid  a  bitter  penalty  for  a  temperament 
which  allied  him  instantly  to  the  caricature.  It  is  said  that 

83  Cumberland,  British  Theatre,  18. 

84  The  Eccentricities  of  John  Edwin,  2.307. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.—  SHERIDAN      149 

one  of  his  sons  was  the  first  to  recognize  him,  and  his 
name  is  inseparably  linked  with  a  role  which  has  appeared 
on  almost  every  stage.  His  incarnation  for  theatre-goers 
by  a  skilful  actor  is  best  described  by  Boaden:  'It  was 
perhaps  reserved  for  Sheridan  to  show  the  utmost  that 
Parsons  could  achieve,  in  Sir  Fretful  Plagiary  in  the 
Critic.  I  have  repeatedly  enjoyed  this  rich  treat,  and 
became  sensible  how  painful  laughter  might  be,  when 
such  a  man  as  Parsons  chose  to  throw  his  whole  force 
into  a  character.  When  he  stood  under  the  castigation 
of  Sneer,  affecting  to  enjoy  criticisms,  which  made  him 
writhe  in  agony;  when  the  tears  were  in  his  eyes,  and  he 
suddenly  checked  his  unnatural  laugh,  to  enable  him  to 
stare  aghast  upon  his  tormentors;  a  picture  was  exhibited 
of  mental  anguish  and  frantic  rage,  or  mortified  vanity 
and  affected  contempt  which  would  almost  deter  an  author 
from  the  pen,  unless  he  could  be  sure  of  his  firmness  under 
every  possible  provocation/35 

Sir  Fretful  was  also  a  popular  part  of  Charles 
Mathews's.36  Walter  Scott  describes  the  acting  of  Sir 
Fretful  Plagiary  by  Mathews.  On  January  9,  1826,  the 
novelist  wrote:  'Mathews  last  night  gave  us  a  very  per- 
fect imitation  of  old  Cumberland,  who  carried  the  poetic 
jealousy  and  irritability  further  than  any  man  I  ever 
saw.'37  But  Scott  says  also:  'It  is  not  from  a  caricature 
that  a  just  picture  can  be  drawn,  and  in  the  little  pettish 
sub-acidity  of  temper  which  Cumberland  sometimes  exhib- 
ited, there  was  more  of  humourous  sadness  than  of  ill- 


35  Boaden,  Memoirs   of  the  Life  of  John  Philip  Kemble,  36. 
describes  Parsons  as  Sir  Fretful.     See  Reminiscences,  237. 

38  Leigh  Hunt  regarded  Mathews's  Sir  Fretful  as  perfect.     The  actor 
was  painted  in  the  role  by  DeWilde. 

37  The  Journal  of  Walter  Scott,  1.79. 


ISO  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

will.538  Cumberland  does  not  mention  Sir  Fretful 
Plagiary  in  the  Memoirs,  and  we  can  only  imagine  the 
pain  it  gave  his  sensitive  nature. 

Cumberland,  on  his  side,  seems  to  have  felt  a  respect 
for  Sheridan  not  discernible  in  his  attitude  towards  Gold- 
smith or  his  other  contemporaries.  (I  could/  he  says, 
'name  one  living,  who  has  made  such  happy  use  of  his 
screen  in  a  comedy  of  the  first  merit,  that  if  Aristotle 
himself  had  written  a  whole  chapter  professedly  against 
screens,  and  Jerry  Collier  had  edited  it  with  notes  and 
illustrations,  I  would  not  have  placed  Lady  Teazle  out 
of  ear-shot  to  have  saved  their  ears  from  the  pillory.' 

Neither  failure  nor  caricature  could  stop  the  steady 
flow  of  Cumberland's  dramatic  productions.  He  was, 
perhaps,  alarmed  by  his  sudden  descent  into  mediocrity; 
and  he  seemed  determined,  at  any  price,  to  sustain  his 
prestige.  Plays  and  operas  sped  as  swiftly  from  his  pen 
as  arrows  from  an  archer's  bow;  the  stage  lay  cluttered 
with  his  shafts,  but  the  target,  success,  remained  un- 
scathed. The  year  of  The  Battle  of  Hastings  saw  two 
other  productions  come  to  light.  There  are  rumours  of 
private  theatricals  in  the  fall  at  Mr.  Hanbury's  theatre 
at  Kelmarsh  in  Northamptonshire.  Here  was  acted  a 
tragedy,  The  Princess  of  Parma,  with  Cumberland  in  the 
dramatis  personae  of  his  own  play.  In  the  same  month, 
on  October  19,  1778,  appeared  at  Drury  Lane  'the  pro- 
duction of  a  hasty  hour,'  The  Election.  Cumberland's 
adherence  to  the  conventional  forms  of  his  beloved  senti- 
mental comedy  is  attested  by  an  outline  of  this  piece 

88  The  Novels  of  Swift,  Bage  and  Cumberland,  'Prefatory  Memoir  to 
Cumberland.'  Sichel  in  his  Life  of  Sheridan  thinks  Sir  Fretful  an  exact 
portrait  of  Cumberland.  He  notes  the  erasure  in  the  first  draft  of  the 
scene,  showing  that  Cumberland  was  originally  treated  even  more 
severely. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— SHERIDAN      151 

printed  in  The  Town  and  Country  Magazine  for  Octo- 
ber. 'John,  an  honest  Baker  .  .  .  though  strongly  im- 
portuned by  his  wife  to  vote  for  Sir  Courtley,  perseveres 
in  his  resolution.  Even  the  temptation  of  the  marriage 
of  his  daughter  with  Sir  Courtley's  particular  friend 
cannot  make  him  swerve  from  his  resolution.'  The  Elec- 
tion was  acted  but  a  few  times,  yet  the  many  lyrics 
achieved  some  popularity,  and  were  widely  printed. 
'Considered  as  a  literary  composition,'  says  Lloyd's 
Evening  Post  of  October  21,  'this  interlude  is  the  most 
execrable  we  ever  met  with.'  But  the  reviewer  adds: 
'As  all  Election  matter  depends  rather  on  being  well 
timed  than  well  written,  we  doubt  not  it  will  be  a 
favourite  with  the  audience  when  it  is  more  perfect  in 
the  performance,  as  it  really  has  a  very  good  stage  effect.' 
On  March  20,  1779,  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre  was 
acted  the  first  of  the  three  efforts  of  the  year.  Like 
Atalanta,  Cumberland  could  not  pursue  his  race  steadily 
to  its  conclusion,  but  must  stop  for  the  golden  apples.  He 
had  not  yet  learned  the  lesson  that  he  was  not  equipped 
by  nature  to  write  opera.  Calypso,  as  Cumberland  named 
the  new  piece,  was  a  sentimental  masque,  telling  with  a 
great  show  of  insipid  morality  the  story  of  Telemachus's 
resistance  of  Calypso.  The  masque  was  performed  only 
three  times,  and  would  hardly  have  survived  so  long 
had  it  not  been  for  some  effective  eighteenth  century  stage 
craft.  The  Public  Advertiser  of  March  22  describes  this 
at  length.  In  conclusion  the  paper  says:  'Upon  the 
Sinking  of  Calypso  and  her  Island,  a  very  brilliant  scene 
arises  from  the  sea  representing  the  Temple  of  Proteus, 
who,  under  the  influence  of  Minerva,  espouses  the  prin- 
cipal nymph  Antiope,  whose  Character  is  rescued  from 
the  general  Depravity  of  her  Associates.' 


152  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Cumberland's  temporary  desertion  of  his  mistress 
'legitimate  comedy'  was  disastrous.  The  critics  relent- 
lessly condemned  the  masque,  and,  in  particular,  resented 
the  author's  dedication  to  the  Duchess  of  Manchester,39 
and  'a  prelude  in  which  he  treated  the  printers  of  news- 
papers as  a  set  of  infamous  fellows.'40  Within  the  week 
the  entire  army  of  reviewers  was  upon  Cumberland. 
George  Cumberland  wrote  his  brother:  'Mr.  Cumber- 
land's Comedy  or  Masque  of  Calypso  was  pretty  well 
received  on  Saturday.  I  could  not  go  to  support  it,  being 
quite  tired  that  day  with  hurry — however  to-day  the 
scribblers  are  at  him  in  swarms — they  have  settled  on  it 
like  a  legion  of  Ants — every  criticism  different — and  all 
the  Same — viz.  abusive.'41 

'What  may  have  induced  Mr.  Cumberland,'  says  The 
Westminster  Magazine  for  March,  'to  quit  his  April 
Muse  (who  certainly  loved  him)  for  other  and  more 
ungrateful  Mistresses,  perhaps  the  secret  history  of  our 
theatric  Powers  can  also  inform  us.  In  his  Comedies, 
Mr.  Cumberland  is  a  chaste,  elegant,  and  affecting 
Writer.  In  his  tragedy,  he  is  forced  and  flowery.  In  his 
Masque,  he  is  often  puerile.' 

In  the  autumn  of  1779  Cumberland  brought  out,  within 
five  weeks  of  each  other,  two  adaptations  of  Elizabethan 
plays.  The  first  of  these  (the  year's  second  play)  was 

39  'If,'  says  Cumberland  in  his  Dedication,  'when  I  am  in  search  of  the 
most  virtuous  character  of  the   age,   I   should   hesitate  to   resort  to  the 
Duchess  of  Manchester,  I  must  be  guilty  of  a  very  obstinate  singularity.' 
The  awkward  superlative  was  taken  by  the  critics  to  be  an  insult  to  the 
lady.     The  London  Review  for  March  says:  'That  her  Grace  may  be  as 
virtuous  as  any  woman  in  the  realm  is  readily  admitted;  but  a  well-bred 
man,  no  loyalist  dr  courtier,  would  not  have  paid  a  compliment  to  one 
woman  at  the  expence  of  her  whole  sex.' 

40  The  Town  and  Country  Magazine,  March,  1779. 

41  Cumberland  Letters,  227. 


-  DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— SHERIDAN      153 

The  Bondman,  acted  at  Covent  Garden  on  October  13. 
This  piece  was  an  adaptation  of  Philip  Massinger's  tragi- 
comedy, The  Bondman,  first  produced  in  1638  at  the 
Cockpit  in  Drury  Lane  by  the  Queen's  Servants,  and 
revived  under  Betterton's  direction  in  1719.  Cumber- 
land's alterations  consisted  in  deleting  obsolete  passages, 
and,  in  general,  preparing  it,  as  a  critic  remarked,  'for 
the  refined  taste  of  modern  times.'42  Since  no  printed 
copy  of  Cumberland's  play  exists,  the  exact  nature  of  the 
alterations  cannot  be  known,  but  Genest  affirms  that 
they  dealt  in  the  main  with  the  comic  scenes. 

Whatever  the  changes,  the  modern  version  of  the 
Elizabethan  play  was  moderately  successful,  although 
The  Town  and  Country  Magazine  for  October,  disagree- 
ing with  The  Universal  Magazine,  thought  the  piece 
'strongly  tinged  with  the  improprieties  of  character  and 
dialogue  that  prevailed  at  the  time  of  its  being  written.1 
Yet  'there  are,'  the  critic  thinks,  'many  judicious  observa- 
tions upon  life  and  manners,  which  afford  some  scenic 
situations  that  produce  a  very  happy  effect.' 

The  second  adaptation  and  the  dramatist's  third  pro- 
duction of  the  year  was  The  Duke  of  Milan,  performed 
at  Covent  Garden  on  November  10. 

Although  this  adaptation  was  more  ambitious  than 
that  of  The  Bondman,  being  based  upon  Massinger's 
Duke  of  Milan,43  and  Fenton's  Marianne,44  it  was  acted 
only  three  times,  and  experienced  as  harsh  treatment  from 
the  critics  as  had  the  earlier  play.  'Last  Night,'  says  The 
Dublin  Advertiser  on  the  morning  after  the  play,  'was 
presented  at  the  Theatre  Royal  in  Covent  Garden,  a 

42  The  Universal  Magazine,  October,  1774. 

43  Philip  Massinger's  Duke  of  Milan  was  acted  at  Blackfriars  in  1638. 

44  Marianne  by  Elijah  Fenton  was  performed  at  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields 
on  April  13,  1733. 


154  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 


Tragedy  taken  from  Massinger  and  Fenton,  called  the 
Duke  of  Milan,  which  is  a  very  dull  Alteration  of  Fen- 
ton's  Marianne,  and  neither  excited  Applause  nor  Dis- 
approbation, but  was  received  with  a  Degree  of  Languor 
which  marked  the  Indifference  of  the  Audience  as  to  the 
Fate  of  the  Piece.  .  .  . ' 

The  newspapers  of  the  day  express  their  surprise  at 
Cumberland's  zeal  in  altering  Elizabethan  plays:  'Mr. 
Cumberland's  success  was  so  great,'  says  The  Westminster 
Magazine  for  November,  'as  a  Writer  of  sentimental 
Comedies,  that  we  cannot  help  wondering  at  his  deserting 
a  path  to  Fame  which  he  trod  with  ease  and  security,  for 
another,  with  which  he  seems  to  be  totally  unacquainted.' 
Cumberland  is  advised  to  reserve  himself  for  good 
comedy.  'He  certainly  will  not,'  the  critic  concludes  with 
just  conviction,  'add  to  his  reputation,  either  by  writing 
or  compiling  tragedies.' 

Once  more  the  author  of  The  Brothers  and  of  The 
West  Indian  endeavoured  to  re-establish  his  sinking 
fortunes.  This  time  he  essayed  nothing  less  than  a  classi- 
cal opera.  The  Widow  of  Delphi  or  The  Descent  of  the 
Deities  appeared  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre  on  February 
i,  1780. 

'This  drama,'  says  Cumberland,  'will  be  considered  as 
one  of  my  most  classical  and  creditable  productions.' 
From  the  surviving  fragments  of  The  Widow  of  Delphi 
emerges  a  weak  structure.  The  piece  was  apparently  an 
opera  based  upon  the  model  of  Grecian  comedy.  It  dis- 
plays throughout  a  vast  deal  of  scholarly  lore. 

Commenting  upon  the  author's  fear  that  the  opera 
might  miscarry  for  want  of  understanding  upon  the  part 
of  the  audience,  Lloyd's  Evening  Post  of  February  2 
says :  'The  fact  is,  it  was  too  well  understood,  and  the  only 


DRAMA  TIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— SHERIDAN      155 

difficulty  we  are  under,  is  to  pronounce  which  part  of  the 
house  it  was,  that  appeared  most  sensible  of  the  defects 
with  which  it  abounds.'  The  author  of  this  review,  after 
christening  the  opera  'a  dramatic  hodge-podge,'  hazards 
a  shrewd  guess  as  to  Cumberland's  motives  in  writing  so 
strange  a  drama.  'Indeed,'  he  says,  'if  the  author  himself 
could  have  had  any  view  in  making  it  up,  it  must  have 
been  merely  to  let  the  world  know  that  he  is  prodigiously 
read  in  ancient  mythology,  or  that  there  are  some  men 
in  the  world  who  can  induce  the  manager  of  a  theatre  to 
obtrude  any  kind  of  nonsense  on  the  public,  however 
egregious,  and  that  at  a  very  considerable  expense  to 
themselves,  for  to  do  justice  to  the  manager's  credulity, 
the  piece  was  richly  dressed,  the  scenery  grand,  and  the 
characters  as  strongly  cast  as  the  company  would  admit.' 

Cumberland's  humiliations  delighted  at  least  one  of  his 
enemies.  An  animosity  which  had  only  lacked  a  definite 
target  found  it  in  the  series  of  ill-fated  plays.  After  re- 
marking upon  the  death  of  Home's  Alfred,  Horace  Wai- 
pole  had  prophesied  a  similar  end  for  The  Battle  of 
Hastings,  'the  child  of  as  feeble  a  parent' ;  later  he  cen- 
sures Calypso,  'a  prodigy  of  dulness,'  for  its  erotic  lines. 

But  the  satirist's  anger  rose  to  fever  heat  at  another 
mention  of  Gray  by  Cumberland.  This  time  the  hapless 
dramatist  had  spoken  of  a  scholarly  work  by  Gray  upon 
Philodamus45  as  'a  laboured  and  elegant  commentary.'48 
After  tearing  up  all  Cumberland's  ideas  and  rhetoric 
upon  the  subject,  Walpole  twists  the  phrase  over  bitterly 
in  his  mind, — 'the  pedantic  and  Bentleian  epithets  of 
laboured  and  elegant,  terms  far  below  any  thing  of 

45  Bentley's    Philodamus    was    acted    at    Covent    Garden    Theatre    on 
December  14,  1782. 

46  Correspondence  of  Horace   Walpole  and  William  Mason,  Mitford 
ed.,  11.117. 


RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 


Gray's  writing,  and  only  worthy  of  prefaces  written  by 
witlings,  who  are  jealous  of,  and  yet  compliment  one 
another;  but  laboured  I  dare  swear  it  was  not,'  cries  Wai- 
pole  angrily,  'and  for  the  wit  of  it,  though  probably  true, 
Cumberland  of  all  men  living,  is  the  worst  judge,  who 
told  me  it  was  pity  Gray's  letters  were  printed  as  they  had 
disgraced  him.  I  should  be  glad  to  see,'  is  Walpole's 
peroration,  'what  this  Jackadandy  calls  a  commentary, 
and  which  I  suppose  was  a  familiar  letter,  and  perhaps  a 
short  one,  for  Gray  could  express  in  ten  lines,  what  the  fry 
of  Scholiasts  would  make  twenty  times  as  long  as  the 
text.'  Walpole  next  attacks  Cumberland's  honesty  in 
the  use  of  his  grandfather's  notes.  He  ends  with  a  thrust 
at  Cumberland's  opera. 

'Mr.  Cumberland,'  he  says,  'has  written  a  laboured  and 
elegant  drama,  which  by  the  title  I  concluded  was  to  be 
very  comical,  and  more  likely  to  endanger  the  celebrity  of 
Aristophanes,  than  of  any  living  wight:  it  is  called  The 
Widow  of  Delphi,  or  the  Descent  of  the  Deities,  and  I 
am  told  is  to  demolish  the  reputation  of  Caractacus.  A 
precis  of  the  subject  was  published  two  days  ago  in  the 
Public  Advertiser  for  the  benefit  of  the  illiterati,  who  are 
informed  that  poor  Shakespeare  was  mistaken  in  calling 
the  spot  of  the  scene  Delphos,  instead  of  Delphi.  I  hope 
there  will  be  a  dance  of  Cyclops^  (I  don't  know  whether 
commentators  will  allow  that  termination)  hammering, 
by  the  order  of  Venus,  armour  to  keep  the  author  invul- 
nerable, who  has  hitherto  been  terribly  bruised  in  all  his 
combats  with  mortals.  He  is  as  sore  as  a  tetter,  yet 
always  blundering  into  new  scrapes.'47 

Such  was  the  dramatic  career  of  Cumberland  between 
the  time  of  the  production  of  The  Fashionable  Lover  in 

47  Letters  of  Horace  Walpole,  Toynbee  ed.,  11.117-8. 


DRAMATIC  ACHIEVEMENT.— SHERIDAN      157 

1772  and  1780,  a  record  of  disappointments  and  failures, 
yet  a  record  also  of  perseverance  and  hope,  and  as  such 
not  to  be  utterly  condemned.  In  1780  the  world  had 
taken  leave  of  its  greatest  actor,  David  Garrick.  Cum- 
berland was  not  among  the  least  bereaved;  in  spite  of 
the  dictator's  occasional  disregard  of  him,  Cumberland 
mourned  the  loss  of  a  friend.  A  letter  written  by  him 
to  Garrick,  on  the  latter's  retirement  from  the  stage,  is 
suggestive:  'The  moment  .  .  .'  writes  Cumberland,  'which 
puts  my  sincerity  beyond  the  reach  of  misconstruction  con- 
veys to  you  the  grateful  acknowledgments  of  a  man,  who 
fairly  owes  to  your  judgment  a  share  of  the  little  fame  he 
has  gathered  from  the  drama,  and  to  your  friendship 
many  kind  and  obliging  offices,  which  subsequent  mis- 
understandings cannot  obliterate.'48 

In  general,  the  nature  of  the  friendship  between  Cum- 
berland and  Garrick  is  clear.  It  was,  in  the  main,  one- 
sided. While  Cumberland's  intense  admiration  for  Gar- 
rick is  almost  always  visible,  it  is  equally  evident  that 
Garrick's  feeling  for  Cumberland  was  a  friendliness 
broken  by  occasional  periods  of  hearty  contempt.  'His 
plays,'  the  actor  burst  out  to  Northcote,  'would  never 
do  if  I  did  not  cook  them  up  and  make  epilogues  and 
prologues  too  for  him.'49  At  another  time  he  wrote 
Colman :  'It  was  impossible  for  you  to  satisfy  Cumber- 
land, had  ye  rack  forc'd  from  you  as  much  falsehood,  as 
he  had  vanity — I  am  very  glad  you  have  prepar'd  him  for 
me;  had  you  been  as  mischevious  as  you  were  sincere  with 
him,  you  might  have  sent  him  so  high  season'd  &  stuff'd 
so  full  wth  conceit,  that  I  should  have  had  much  ado  to 

48  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  2.126-7. 

49  Hazlitt,  Conversations  of  James  Northcote,  275. 


158  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

lower  him  .  .  .  '80  It  is,  nevertheless,  within  the  bounds 
of  belief,  that  much  of  this  sprang  from  the  petulance  of 
Garrick.  It  is  certain  that  he  sought  Cumberland's  so- 
ciety, that  he  was  with  him  at  Footers,  at  Romney's,  and 
in  Queen-Anne  Street.  'Garrick,'  says  Cumberland  of 
the  actor's  power  over  the  small  Cumberlands,  'could 
charm  a  circle  of  them  about  him  whilst  he  acted  the 
turkey-cocks,  and  peacocks  and  water-wagtails  to  their 
infinite  and  undescribable  amusement.' 

At  Garrick's  funeral,  which  Walpole  declared  had 
more  than  double  the  number  of  coaches  at  Lord  Chat- 
ham's, Cumberland  paid  his  last  tribute  among  the  group 
of  'intimate  friends,  occupying  the  twenty-sixth  coach  in 
the  procession.'51  He  has  left  a  picture  of  that  occa- 
sion which  appeals  deeply  to  the  imagination.  'I  saw,' 
he  says,  'old  Samuel  Johnson  standing  beside  his  grave, 
at  the  foot  of  Shakespeare's  monument,  and  bathed  in 
tears.' 

50  Posthumous  Letters  to  Francis   Colman,  and   George   Colman,  the 
Elder,  302. 

51  The  Gentleman's  Magazine,  October,  1780. 


CHAPTER  IX 
JOHNSON  AND  HIS  CIRCLE 

/CUMBERLAND,  'the  gentleman  dramatist,'  had 
^^  social  demesnes  unknown  to  Hugh  Kelly,  or  to 
Thomas  Holcroft.  During  the  first  few  years  after 
The  West  Indian,  he  was  'running  through  his  popu- 
larity,' as  he  himself  described  it,  and  was  living  with 
the  great;  he  dined  with  them,  and  listened  to  tongues  of 
flame  hardly  less  nimble  than  those  of  The  Mermaid 
Tavern.  He  had  not  access  everywhere;  his  envious 
detraction  had  few  admirers.  But  a  benevolent  turn  of 
mind  and  learned  conversation,  spiced  with  many  an 
anecdote,  as  well  as  unexceptionable  birth  and  breeding, 
gained  him  entrance  into  most  places  of  importance.  He 
might  have  been  found  at  the  coffee-houses  of  note  or 
at  Mrs.  Thrale's.  The  house  in  Queen-Anne  Street 
welcomed  many  distinguished  visitors  to  have  tea  with 
'Cumbey.'  Cumberland  had  strong  powers  for  observing 
externals,  and  he  has  left  several  cameo-like  portraits  of 
the  great  Londoners  of  his  time. 

His  picture  of  Soame  Jenyns,1  whom  Boswell  credits 
with  'lively  talents,'  follows:  'He  was  the  man,'  Cumber- 
land says  with  admiration,  'who  bore  his  part  in  all  socie- 
ties with  the  most  even  temper  and  undisturbed  hilarity 
of  all  the  good  companions,  whom  I  ever  knew.  He 
came  into  your  house  at  the  very  moment  you  had  put 

1  In  1725  was  published  anonymously  his  poem,  The  Art  of  Dancing, 
and  In  1757  appeared  his  Free  Inquiry  into  the  Nature  and  Origin  of  Evil. 


i6o  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

upon  your  card;  he  dressed  himself  to  do  your  party 
honour  in  all  the  colours  of  the  jay.  .  .  .  His  eyes  were 
protruded  like  the  eyes  of  the  lobster,  who  wears  them 
at  the  end  of  his  feelers,  and  yet  there  was  room  between 
one  of  these  and  his  nose  for  another  wen  that  added 
nothing  to  his  beauty;  yet  I  heard  this  good  man  very 
innocently  remark,  when  Gibbon  published  his  history, 
that  he  wondered  any  body  so  ugly  could  write  a  book.' 

Cumberland,  a  judge  of  conversation  as  of  acting, 
found  that  Soame  Jenyns  'told  you  no  long  stories, 
engrossed  not  much  of  your  attention,  and  was  not  angry 
with  those  that  did;  his  thoughts  were  original,  and  were 
apt  to  have  a  very  whimsical  affinity  to  the  paradox  in 
them;  he  wrote  verses  upon  dancing,  and  prose  upon  the 
origin  of  evil,  yet  he  was  a  very  indifferent  metaphysician 
and  a  worse  dancer;  ill  nature  and  personality,  with  the 
single  exception  of  his  lines  upon  Johnson,  I  never  heard 
fall  from  his  lips.'2 

It  is  inconceivable  that  so  sensitive  a  mind  as  Cum- 
berland's would  not  be  stirred  by  the  greatest  one  of  the 
age.  He  has  told  us  in  the  Memoirs  of  Samuel  Johnson 
with  affection  and  reverence.  'Mr.  Cumberland  assures 
me,'  says  Boswell,  'that  he  was  always  treated  with  great 
courtesy  by  Dr.  Johnson.'3  Samuel  Johnson  is  linked 
in  a  far  less  definite  way  than  Garrick  to  Cumberland. 
Bound  by  no  professional  ties  of  the  drama,  the  relations 
of  the  two  were  social.  They  met  in  Mrs.  Thrale's 
drawing-room,  at  Cumberland's  home  in  Queen-Anne 
Street,  and  at  the  various  taverns,  notably  Mrs.  Ander- 

2  This  epitaph  was  printed  in  the  magazines  shortly  after  Johnson's 
death.    The  offensive  lines  were: 

Bosivell  and  Thrale,  retailers  of  his  wit, 

Will  tell  you  how  he  wrote,  and  talk'd,  and  cough'd,  and  spit. 

3  Boswell,  Life  of  Johnson,  Hill  ed.,  4.444,  foot-note  1. 


JOHNSON  AND  HIS  CIRCLE  161 

son's  British  Coffee-House.  On  these  fields  Cumberland 
heard  the  artillery  of  the  great  logician,  and  his  series 
of  impressions  form  a  remarkable  picture  of  Johnson 
some  ten  years  before  his  death.  Cumberland  saw  him 
ready  for  society  in  the  'brown  coat  with  metal  buttons, 
black  waistcoat  and  worsted  stockings,'  and  the  'flowing 
bob  wig,'  letting  'his  next  neighbor  squeeze  the  china 
oranges  into  his  wine  glass  after  dinner.'  'It  was  never 
my  chance,'  Cumberland  adds,  'to  see  him  in  those 
moments  of  moroseness  and  ill-humour,  which  are  im- 
puted to  him,'  but  rather  when  he  'lent  himself  to  every 
invitation  with  cordiality,  and  brought  good  humour  with 
him,  that  gave  life  to  the  circle  he  was  in.' 

Another  glimpse  of  Johnson  is  at  Cumberland's  own 
tea-table.  'I  remember,'  wrote  the  host,  'when  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds  at  my  house  reminded  him  that  he  had 
drunk  eleven  cups,  he  replied — "Sir,  I  shall  have  released 
the  lady  from  any  further  trouble,  if  it  had  not  been  for 
your  remark;  but  you  have  reminded  me  that  I  want  one 
of  a  dozen,  and  I  must  request  Mrs.  Cumberland  to  round 
up  my  number." 

Cumberland  relates  several  anecdotes  of  Johnson,  one 
of  which  is  included  in  The  Observer,  a  periodical  later 
published  by  Cumberland.  Here  Doctor  Johnson  is 
described  as  one  who  'spoke  with  great  energy,  and  in 
the  most  chosen  language ;  nobody  yet  attempted  to  inter- 
rupt him,  and  his  words  rolled  not  with  the  shallow 
impetuosity  of  a  torrent,  but  deeply  and  fluently,  like  the 
copious  current  of  the  Nile:  He  took  up  the  topic  of 
religion  in  his  course,  and,  though  palsy  shook  his  head, 
he  looked  so  terrible  in  Christian  armour,  and  dealt  his 
stroke  with  so  much  force  and  judgment,  that  Infidelity 
in  the  persons  of  several  petty  skirmishers,  sneaked 


1 62  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

away  from  him,  and  kept  baying  at  him  whilst  he  was 
speaking,  perpetually  crying  out — "Give  me  leave  to 
observe — not  to  interrupt  you,  Sir  .  .  ."  The  phi- 
losopher looked  about  for  the  insect  that  annoyed  him, 
and  having  at  last  eyed  him,  as  it  were  askaunce, 
demanded  what  it  was  provoked  him  to  impatience — 
"Have  I  said  anything,  good  Sir,  that  you  do  not  com- 
prehend?" "No,  no,"  replied  he,  "I  perfectly  well 
comprehend  every  word  you  have  been  saying." — "Do 
you  so,  Sir,"  said  the  philosopher,  "then  I  heartily  ask 
pardon  of  the  company  for  misemploying  their  time  so 
egregiously,"  and  stalked  away  without  waiting  for  an 
answer.'4 

The  Observer  itself  Johnson  might  have  directly  influ- 
enced, for  Cumberland  consulted  him  in  making  his  col- 
lections for  the  Greek  dramatists,  but  the  philosopher 
admitted  that  his  studies  had  not  lain  in  that  direction. 
'When  Mr.  Cumberland,'  says  Boswell,  'talked  to  him 
of  the  Greek  fragments  which  are  so  well  illustrated  in 
The  Observer,  and  of  the  Greek  dramatists  in  general, 
he  candidly  acknowledged  his  insufficiency  in  that  brand 
of  Greek  literature.'5  Cumberland's  verses  in  Retro- 
spection are  a  propos: 

Johnson,  if  right  I  judge,  in  classic  lore, 
Was  more  diffuse  than  deep,  he  did  not  dig 
So  many  fathoms  down  as  Bently  dug 
In  Grecian  soil,  but  far  enough  to  find 
Truth  ever  at  the  bottom  of  the  shaft.  .   .   . 

In  the  midst  of  all  Cumberland's  comment  one  thought 
stands  out,  a  ray  of  insight:  'Who  will  say,'  he  asks, 
'that  Johnson  himself  would  have  been  such  a  champion 

4  The  Observer,  No.  17. 

6  Boswell,  Life  of  Johnson,  Hill  ed.,  4.444. 


JOHNSON  AND  HIS  CIRCLE  163 

in  literature,  such  a  front-rank  soldier  in  the  fields  of 
fame,  if  he  had  not  been  pressed  into  the  service,  and 
driven  on  to  glory  with  the  bayonet  of  sharp  necessity 
pointed  at  his  back?' 

Northcote  says  that  Johnson  and  his  friends  'never 

admitted  C as  one  of  the  set,'6  and  Cumberland  was 

never  elected  to  The  Literary  Club.  We  may  believe 
that  Cumberland's  talents  shone  more  brightly  in 
smaller  groups,  and  that  it  was  after  an  evening  at  Mrs. 
Thrale's  that  Johnson  paid  Cumberland  his  remarkable 
tribute.  'The  want  of  company,'  he  said,  'is  an  incon- 
venience: but  Mr.  Cumberland  is  a  million.'7  Johnson 
also  passed  judgment  upon  Cumberland's  odes.  It  was 
during  an  evening  at  the  Crown  and  Anchor  that  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds  mentioned  them.  '  "Why,  Sir,"  said 
Johnson,  "they  would  have  been  thought  as  good  as 
Odes  commonly  are,  if  Cumberland  had  not  put  his  name 
to  them;  but  a  name  immediately  draws  censure,  unless 
it  be  a  name  that  bears  down  everything  before  it.  Nay, 
Cumberland  has  made  his  Odes  subsidiary  to  the  fame 
of  another  man.  They  might  have  run  well  enough  by 
themselves;  but  he  has  not  only  loaded  them  with  a  name, 
but  he  has  made  them  carry  double."  '8 

It  is,  at  all  events,  certain  that  Cumberland  was  often 
in  the  circle  at  Streatham  of  which  Johnson  was  the 
centre.  Johnson  writes  Mrs.  Thrale:  'This  day  I 
thought  myself  sure  of  a  letter,  but  so  I  am  constantly 
served.  Mr.  Cumberland  .  .  .  and  Mrs.  Byron,  and 
anybody  else,  puts  me  out  of  your  head;  and  I  know  no 
more  of  you  than  if  you  were  on  the  other  side  of  the 

6  Hazlitt,  Conversations  of  James  Northcote,  275. 

7  Letters  of  Doctor  Samuel  Johnson,  Hill  ed.,  2.111. 

8  For  Walpole's  comment  upon  Cumberland's  odes  see  pages  114  and 
134. 


164  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Caspian.'9  There  is  also  a  letter  from  Johnson  to  Mrs. 
Thrale  seeming  to  deplore  the  failure  of  The  Walloons,10 
one  of  Cumberland's  hastily  written  dramatic  pieces. 
Boswell,  strangely  enough,  followed  suit  in  his  liking  for 
Cumberland.  He  admired  The  Fashionable  Lover™  and 
he  speaks  of  Cumberland's  'keen,  yet  just  and  delicate 
pen.'12  Cumberland,  on  his  side,  professed  to  read  the 
Life  of  Johnson  once  a  year.  By  a  study  of  his  life  with 
Johnson's  friends,  .Cumberland's  foibles,  particularly  his 
jealousy,  are  brought  into  broad  daylight.  'What,'  was 

Johnson's  puzzled  question,  'makes  C hate  B ?13 

D ,'14  he  adds,  'is  indeed  a  rival,  and  can  upon  occa- 
sion provoke  a  bugle.  But  what  has  B done  ?  Does 

he  not  like  her  book?'15 

The  most  ardent  defender  of  Cumberland  could  find 
nothing  that  Fanny  Burney  had  done,  except  the  writing 
of  an  unacted  play.16  She  drew  from  Cumberland  his 
jealousy  in  all  its  warmth,  and  whether  by  deliberation, 
or  in  sheer  unconsciousness,  he  made  her  life  steadily 
unpleasant  whenever  he  was  near.  It  was  during  an 
evening  with  Mrs.  Thrale  that  Doctor  Johnson  heard 
the  Cumberland  family  discussed.  'Mrs.  Thrale  said 
that  Mr.  Cumberland  was  a  very  amiable  man  in  his  own 
house;  but  as  a  father  mighty  simple.  .  .  ,'17  This 

Q  Letters  of  Doctor  Samuel  Johnson,  Hill  ed.,  2.117. 

10  Ibid.,  2.252. 

11  Life  of  Johnson,  Hill  ed.,  5.200. 

12  Ibid.,  4.75. 

13  Fanny  Burney. 

14  John  Delap,  poet  and  the  author  of  numerous  unsuccessful  plays. 

15  Letters  of  Doctor  Samuel  Johnson,  Hill  ed.,  2.112. 

16  Mrs.  Thrale  had  begged  Miss  Burney  to  write  a  comedy,  and  Sheri- 
dan had  promised  to  accept  anything  of  hers  unseen.     She  wrote   The 
Willings,  but  suppressed  it. 

17  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  1.69-70. 


JOHNSON  AND  HIS  CIRCLE  165 

accounted,  Mrs.  Thrale  thought,  for  the  rude  conduct 
of  his  daughters,  and  she  told  Miss  Burney  that  'about 
two  years  ago,  they  were  actually  hissed  out  of  the  play- 
house, on  account  of  the  extreme  height  of  their  feathers ! 
Dr.  Johnson  instantly  composed  an  extempore  dialogue 
between  himself  and  Mr.  Cumberland  upon  this  subject, 
in  which  he  was  to  act  the  part  of  a  provoking  condoler.' 
While  Cumberland,  by  his  discourtesy  to  Miss  Burney, 
had  offended  Mrs.  Thrale,  Murphy18  was  well  estab- 
lished in  her  good  graces.  'She  told  me,  therefore,'  says 
Miss  Burney,  'in  a  merry  way,  that  though  she  wished  me 
to  excel  Cumberland,  and  all  other  dramatic  writers,  yet 
she  would  not  wish  me  better  than  her  old  friend 
Murphy.'19  Miss  Burney  heard  one  more  unpleasant 
echo  of  the  dramatist  before  her  meeting  with  him.  She 
tells  the  story  of  his  name  being  discussed  at  Mrs. 
Cholmondeley's.20  There  was  a  talk  of  the  marriage  of 
the  Duke  of  Dorset  and  Miss  Cumberland,21  and  the 
conversation  naturally  fell  upon  Mr.  Cumberland  who 
was  'finely  cut  up.'22 

'What  a  man  is  that!'  said  Mrs.  Cholmondeley :  'I  cannot  bear 
him — so  querulous,  so  dissatisfied,  so  determined  to  like  nobody 
and  nothing  but  himself!' 

'What,  Mr.  Cumberland?'  I  exclaimed. 

'Yes,'  answered  she;  'I  hope  you  don't  like  him?' 

18  Author  of  the  Gray's  Inn  Journal,  and  the  plays,  The  Upholsterer, 
All  in  the  Wrong,  Know  Your  Own  Mind,  and  Three  Weeks  after 
Marriage.  Murphy  was  Cumberland's  ardent  enemy.  See  Murphy,  Life 
of  David  Garrick,  86-91,  108-9. 

^Ibid.,  1.91. 

20  Mary  Cholmondeley,  sister  of  Teg'  Woffington,  the  actress. 

21  John  Frederick  Sackville,  third  Duke  of  Dorset.    He  married  in  1745 
Arabella,  daughter  of  Sir  Charles  Cope,  of  Brewerne,  Oxfordshire. 

22  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  187-8. 


166  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

'I  don't  know  him,  ma'am.  I  have  only  seen  him  once,  at  Mrs. 
Ord's.' 

'Oh,  don't  like  him  for  your  life!  I  charge  you  not!  I  hope 
you  did  not  like  his  looks?' 

'Why,'  quoth  I,  laughing,  'I  went  prepared  and  determined 
to  like  him ;  but,  perhaps  when  I  see  him  next,  I  may  go  prepared 
for  the  contrary.'23 

From  this  time  Miss  Burney  endured  the  ill  will  of 
the  entire  Cumberland  family.  The  daughters  surveyed 
her  constantly  with  curious  eyes.24  Mrs.  Cumberland 
looked  at  her  'as  at  a  person  she  had  no  reason  or 
business  to  know/25  while  Cumberland  himself  zealously 
avoided  the  authoress. 

23  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  187-8. 

24  Miss  Burney  had  seen  Elizabeth  and  Sophia  Cumberland  and  'one 
of  her  sons'  'a  handsome  soft-looking  youth'  at  Brighthelmstone  in  1779. 
'Mrs.  Thrale,'  she  writes  in  her  Diary,  'spoke  to  them,  but  I  believe  they 
did  not  recollect  me.     They  are  reckoned  the  flashers  of  the  place,  yet 
everybody  laughs  at  them  for  their  airs,  affectations,  and  tonish  graces 
and   impertinences.'     Later  Miss  Burney  describes  the   girls   at   another 
gathering:  'There  was  a  great  deal  of  company,   and  among  them  the 
Cumberlands.    The  oldest  of  the  girls  .   .   .  quite  turned  round  her  whole 
person  every  time  we  passed  each  other,  to  keep  me  in  sight,  and  stare 
at  me  as  long  as  possible;  so  did  her  brother.     I  never  saw  anything  so 
ill-bred  and  impertinent;  I  protest  I  was  ready  to  quit  the  rooms  to  avoid 
them;  till  at  last  Miss  Thrale,  catching  Miss  Cumberland's  eye,  gave  her 
so  full,  determined,  and  downing  a  stare,  that  whether  awed  by  shame  or 
resentment,  she  forebore  from  that  time  to  look  at  either  of  us.     Miss 
Thrale,  with  a  sort  of  good-natured  dryness,  said,  "Whenever  you  are 
disturbed  with  any  of  these  stares,  apply  to  me, — I'll  warrant  I'll  cure 
them.     I  daresay  the  girl  hates  me  for  it;  but  what  shall  I  be  the  worse 
for  that?     I  would  have  served  Master  Dickey  so  too,  only  I  could  not 
catch  his  eye."  '     Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed., 
1.282,  285,  287-8. 

25  Ibid.,  1.286.     Evidence  of  the  happiness  of  Cumberland's  marriage 
venture  may,  perhaps,  be  had  in  Mrs.  Cumberland's  entire  sympathy  with 
his  incivilities:  'By  the  way/  writes  Miss  Burney,  'Mrs.  Cumberland  has 
never  once  waited  on  Mrs.  Thrale  since  our  arrival,  though  till  now,  she 
always  seemed  proud  enough  of  the  acquaintance.' 


JOHNSON  AND  HIS  CIRCLE  167 

Miss  Burney's  sensibilities  were  as  outraged  as  her 
own  Evelina's,  and  her  reflections  upon  Cumberland,  as 
found  in  the  Diary,  are  alive  with  natural,  if  feminine, 
resentment.  That  'she  can  make  use  of  pen  and  ink' 
she  considers  'an  insufficient  cause  for  his  illiberal  .  .  . 
disposition,'  and  she  quotes  the  opinions  of  her  friends 
'who  impute  the  whole  of  this  conduct  to  its  having  tran- 
spired that  [she  is]  to  bring  out  a  play  this  season.'26 

Cumberland's  uncontrollable  weakness  seems  to  have 
mastered  him  whenever  he  approached  Miss  Burney,  and 
her  judgment  of  him  is  even  fairer  than  might  be 
expected.  'Mr.  Cumberland,'  she  declares,  'though  in 
all  other  respects  an  agreeable  and  a  good  man,  is  so 
notorious  for  hating  and  envying  and  spiting  all  authors 
in  the  dramatic  line,  that  he  is  hardly  decent  in 
his  behavior  towards  them.'  Doctor  Johnson,  Mrs. 
Cholmondeley,  and  the  Thrales  had  all  warned  her 
against  Cumberland's  jealousy,  Doctor  Johnson  telling  her 
that  he  doubtless  hated  her,  but  Miss  Burney  had  failed  to 
take  them  seriously.  Cumberland's  envy  of  Miss  Burney 
seemed  to  burn  with  an  unholy  light.  "I  would  have 
sent  for  you,"  said  Mrs.  Thrale,'  after  a  call  from  Cum- 
berland, '  "but  'hang  it,'  thought  I,  'if  I  only  name  her, 
this  man  will  snatch  his  hat  and  make  off!'  "  '27  'Other- 
wise good,  humane,  and  generous,'28  as  Miss  Burney  con- 
ceded, Cumberland's  anxiety  for  his  own  fame  left  him 
peevish  as  a  child. 

At  another  time,  Mrs.  Thrale,  who  tortured  Cumber- 
land exquisitely  with  her  raillery,  suggested  the  expedient 
of  having  Doctor  Delap  and  Miss  Burney  strut  on  either 
side  of  him,  armed,  respectively,  with  a  dagger  and  a 

2«  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  1.286. 

27  Ibid.,  1.289. 

28  Ibid.,  1.290. 


168  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

mask  to  represent  tragedy  and  comedy  to  the  suffering 
Cumberland.  Doctor  Delap,  in  his  turn,  proposed  that 
Miss  Burney  and  he  each  burn  a  play  apiece  to  placate 
the  green-eyed  monster. 

Cumberland's  rudeness  and  avoidance  lasted  through- 
out the  winter  of  1779,  and  the  success  of  Evelina  seemed 
to  throw  him  into  a  deep  depression.  This  reacted  curi- 
ously upon  Miss  Burney  who  writes  with  some  touch  of 
fear:  'I  am  concerned  to  have  ever  encountered  this  sore 
man,  who,  if  already  he  thus  burns  with  envy  at  the  suc- 
cess of  my  book,  will,  should  he  find  his  narrowness  of 
mind  resented  by  me,  or  related  by  my  friends,  not  only 
wish  me  ill,  but  do  me  every  ill  office  hereafter  in  his 
power.  Indeed,  I  am  quite  shocked  to  find  how  he  avoids 
and  determines  to  dislike  me  ...  I  shall  still,  however, 
hope,  if  I  can  but  keep  Mrs.  Thrale's  indignant  friend- 
ship within  bounds,  to  somewhat  conciliate  matters,  and 
prevent  any  open  enmity,  which  authorizes  all  ill  deeds, 
from  taking  place.'29 

Of  the  many  anecdotes  concerning  Cumberland  and 
Fanny  Burney  a  story  connected  with  Evelina  most 
deserves  a  full  narration.  The  authoress  herself  tells 
the  story.  Having  observed  Miss  Burney  with  Mrs. 
Thrale,  Cumberland  said  to  the  latter: 

'Oh,  that  young  lady  is  an  author,  I  hear!' 

'Yes,'  answered  Mrs.  Thrale,  'author  of  Evelina!' 

'Humph, — I  am  told  it  has  some  humour!' 

'Ay,  indeed!  Johnson  says  nothing  like  it  has  appeared  for 
years !' 

'So,'  cried  he,  biting  his  lips,  and  waving  uneasily  in  his  chair, 
'so,  so!' 

29  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  1.292. 


JOHNSON  AND  HIS  CIRCLE  169 

'Yes,'  continued  she,  'and  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  told  Mr.  Thrale 
he  would  give  fifty  pounds  to  know  the  author!' 

'So,  so — oh,  vastly  well !'  cried  he,  putting  his  hand  on  his  fore- 
head. 

'Nay/  added  she,  'Burke  himself  sat  up  all  night  to  finish  it!' 

This  seemed  quite  too  much  for  him;  he  put  both  his  hands 
to  his  face,  and  moving  backwards  and  forwards,  said, 

'Oh,  vastly  well! — this  will  do  for  anything!'  with  a  tone  as 
much  as  to  say,  Pray  no  more!  Then  Mrs.  Thrale  bid  him 
good-night,  longing,  she  said  to  call  Miss  Thrale  first,  and  say, 
'So  you  won't  speak  to  my  daughter? — why  she  is  no  author!'30 
'For  my  part,'  said  Mrs.  Thrale  another  time,  'I'd  have  a  starling 
taught  to  halloo  Evelina/'31 

There  are  few  bonds  between  Cumberland  and  the 
other  members  of  Johnson's  circle.  With  Bennet  Langton 
or  with  Beauclerc  he  had  no  intercourse,  if,  indeed,  he 
knew  them.  Cumberland  had  opportunities  to  meet  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds  not  only  at  the  British  Coffee-House,  but 
also,  in  all  probability,  at  his  own  home  in  Queen-Anne 
Street.32  Reynolds  is  mentioned  infrequently  in  the 
Memoirs.  He  is  contrasted  to  Johnson  and  Soame  Jenyns 
in  conversation,33  is  named  as  one  of  the  claqners  at  She 
Stoops  to  Conquer?*  and  is  paid  a  tribute  by  Cumberland 
in  execrable  verse : 

Late,  very  late  on  this  sequester'd  isle, 
The  heav'n  descended  art  was  seen  to  smile ; 

30  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  1.291-2.    Dob- 
son  says  that  these  passages  descriptive  of  Cumberland  read  like  a  scene 
in  The  Critic.    Dobson,  Life  of  Fanny  Burney,  106. 

31  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  1.298. 

32  Memoirs,  1.357. 
™Ibid.,  1.335-6. 
**Ibid.t  1.367. 


170  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Seldom  she  came  to  this  storm-beaten  coast, 
And  short  her  stay,  just  seen,  admir'd  and  lost. 
Reynolds  at  length,  her  favorite  suitor,  bore 
The  blushing  stranger  to  his  native  shore.85 

But  Cumberland's  partiality  for  Romney  made  him 
less  appreciative  of  Reynolds.  In  a  letter  dated  August 
14,  1774,  describing  some  pictures  at  the  annual  exhibi- 
tion, he  writes:  'Our  friend  Sir  Joshua,  though  very 
voluminous,  had  nothing  supremely  capital,  coarse  and 
flaring  in  his  style  and  colours,  he  seems  tired  with  nature 
and  is  bringing  in  vagaries  to  hide  his  want  of  improve- 
ment.'36 

Moreover,  Northcote  tells  of  Cumberland's  dislike  for 
Reynolds.  One  day  Garrick  said:  *  "He  hates  you,  Sir 
Joshua,  because  you  do  not  admire  his  Correggio." 
"What  Correggio?"  answered  Sir  Joshua.  "Why,  his 
Correggio,"  replied  Garrick,  "is  Romney,  the  painter."  '37 

Cumberland  has  also  celebrated  Edmund  Burke  in 
verse.  Cumberland's  admiration  for  him  was  strong,  and 
in  curious  juggling  lines  he  has  contrasted  his  mental 
powers  with  those  of  Johnson. 

Both  had  a  taste 

For  contradiction,  but  in  mode  unlike ; 
Johnson  at  once  would  doggedly  pronounce 
Opinions  false,  and  after  prove  them  such : 
Burke,  not  less  critical,  but  more  polite 
With  ceaseless  volubility  of  tongue 
Play'd  round  and  round  his  subject,  till  at  length, 
Content  to  find  you  willing  to  admire, 
He  cqas'd  to  urge  or  win  you  to  assent.38 

35  Memoirs,  2.216-7. 

36  Chamberlain,  George  Romney,  72. 

37  Ibid.,  248. 


JOHNSON  AND  HIS  CIRCLE  171 

Cumberland  says  that 

The  pen  which  Burke  encourag'd,  Johnson  spurn'd  ;38 
and  that 

Burke,  by  his  senatorial  power  obtained, 
Ten  times  as  much  as  Johnson  by  his  pen. 

In  style, 

Burke  displayed 

A  copious  period,  that  with  curious  skill 
And  ornamental  epithet  drawn  out, 
Was,  like  the  singer's  cadence,  sometimes  apt, 
Although  melodious,  to  fatigue  the  ear.  .    .   ,88 

Cumberland's  pleasure  in  the  pamphlet  on  the  French 
Revolution  led  him  to  write  Burke  a  letter  of  thanks 
which  brought  the  following  amenity:  'You  may  be 
assured,  that  nothing  could  be  more  flattering  to  me  than 
the  approbation  of  a  gentleman  so  distinguished  in  lit- 
erature as  you  are,  and  in  so  great  a  variety  of  its 
branches.'39 

38  Retrospection.    See  Mudford,  Life  of  Richard  Cumberland,  247-9. 
™lbid.,  2.271-3. 


CHAPTER  X 
AMBASSADORSHIP  TO  SPAIN 

IN  the  year  1780  Cumberland's  dramatic  and  social 
careers  were  interrupted.  He  suddenly  believed 
that  he  saw  the  way  clear  to  political  preferment.  The 
Spanish  fleet  shattered  by  Rodney,  'the  greatest  of  all 
seamen  save  Nelson  and  Drake,'  had  slunk  away  to 
Cadiz,  but  Spain  and  France  still  plotted,  and  Cumber- 
land believed  he  had  discovered  important  business  of  the 
secret  agents  of  these  countries.  'Of  these  communica- 
tions,' he  says  mysteriously,  'I  made  that  use,  which  my 
duty  dictated,  and  to  my  judgment  seemed  advisable.'1 
The  circumstances  of  his  appointment  as  ambassador  are 
unknown;  he  was  soon  embarked  upon  the  most  unfor- 
tunate venture  of  his  life,  which  had  for  its  immediate 
end  'a  secret  negociation  with  the  Minister  Florida 
Blanca'  of  Spain. 

On  April  28,  1780,  with  his  wife  and  two  daughters, 
Elizabeth  and  Sophia,  Cumberland  set  sail  on  His  Ma- 
jesty's frigate,  Mil  ford,  for  Lisbon.  He  was  accompa- 
nied by  the  Abbe  Hussey,  'Chaplain  to  his  Catholic 
Majesty.'  After  a  storm  which  tested  the  leaky  frigate, 
a  French  man-of-war  appeared.  An  engagement  fol- 
lowed in  which  the  Frenchman  suffered  heavy  losses  in 
killed  and  wounded,  and  was  finally  captured.  'When  I 

1  A  disproportionate  space  in  the  Memoirs  is  taken  up  by  what  The 
Edinburgh  Review  for  April,  1806,  calls  a  'long  and  languishing  account' 
of  the  trip  to  Spain. 


AMBASSADORSHIP  TO  SPAIN  173 

witnessed,'  says  Cumberland,  'the  dispatch,  with  which  a 
ship  is  cleared  for  action,  the  silence  and  the  good  order 
so  strictly  observed,  and  the  commands  so  distinctly  given 
upon  going  into  action,  I  was  impressed  with  the  great- 
est respect  for  the  discipline  and  precision  observed  on 
board  our  ships  of  war.'  One  sailor  'had  his  arm  shat- 
tered by  the  first  fire  of  the  enemy,  which  he  received 
with  the  most  stoical  indifference,  and  would  not  be  per- 
suaded to  leave  the  quarter-deck  till  the  action  was  over, 
when  going  down  to  be  dressed  as  my  eldest  daughter 
(now  Lady  Edward  Bentinck)  was  coming  up  from 
below,  he  gallantly  presented  that  very  arm  to  assist  her, 
and  when,  observing  him  shrink  upon  her  touching  it,  she 
said  to  him — "Serjeant,  I  am  afraid  you  are  wounded — " 
he  calmly  replied — "To  be  sure  I  am,  Madam,  else  I 
should  not  have  been  so  bold  to  have  crossed  you  on 
the  stairs."  Cumberland  wrote  a  sea-song  in  celebra- 
tion of  the  victory.  'We  frequently,'  he  says,  'sung  it 
at  Lisbon  in  lusty  chorus,  but  [the  sailors']  delicacy  would 
not  allow  them  to  let  it  be  once  heard  till  their  prisoners 
were  removed.'  On  May  17  the  Milford  anchored  at 
Lisbon. 

The  plan  was  that  Hussey  should  proceed  to  Aranjuez, 
and  sound  the  mind  of  the  Spanish  government  in  respect 
to  certain  negotiations  with  England.  In  the  event  of 
an  unfavourable  reply,  Cumberland  was  to  return  home 
immediately,  otherwise  he  was  to  pursue  his  journey  into 
Spain,  ostensibly  en  route  for  Italy.  One  strict  order 
bound  Cumberland,  as  representative  of  the  English  gov- 
ernment. No  parlance  was  to  be  admitted  involving  the 
cession  of  Gibraltar. 

A  reading  of  Hussey's  note  from  Aranjuez  left  Cum- 
berland at  a  puzzling  cross-roads:  'I  arrived  here  three 


174  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

days  ago,'  he  wrote,  'conversed  with  the'  minister  of 
state  upon  the  subject  of  your  journey,  and  do  find  that 
the  delays,  which  this  business  met  with,  and  the  different 
turn,  which  matters  have  taken,  render  this  negociation 
every  day  exceedingly  arduous  and  difficult.  However 
as  the  minister  is  so  very  desirous  of  finding  some  means 
to  bring  it  to  a  happy  conclusion,  and  as  you  are  already 
so  far  advanced  on  your  journey,  I  think  it  by  all  means 
advisable  that  you  come  .  .  .  and  so  give  the  negociation 
a  fair  trial.' 

Of  Gibraltar,  the  token  for  advance  or  retreat,  Hussey 
had  said  not  a  word!  Cumberland  had  now  the  unpleas- 
ant task  of  balancing  his  chances  for  success  against  the 
humiliation  of  an  immediate  return  to  England.  An 
advance  meant  unquestioning  reliance  upon  a  loyalty  and 
sagacity  not  over-clear  in  the  Abbe  Hussey's  ambiguous 
note,  and  something  very  like  disgrace  if  this  reliance 
were  ill-founded.  A  retreat,  on  the  other  hand,  meant 
dull  failure.  The  timid,  ambitious  Cumberland  wrote 
the  Earl  of  Hillsborough,  then  Secretary  of  State,  two 
letters.  In  the  first  he  outlined  the  situation,  and  gave 
his  decision  to  proceed.  The  second,  written  the  next 
day,  began:  'I  am  sensible  I  have  taken  a  step,  which 
exposes  me  to  censure  upon  failure  or  success,  unless  the 
reasons,  on  which  I  have  acted,  shall  be  weighed  with 
candour  and  even  with  indulgence.  In  the  decision,  I 
have  taken  for  entering  Spain,  I  have  had  no  other  object 
but  to  keep  alive  a  negociation,  to  which  any  backward- 
ness or  evasion  on  my  part  in  the  present  crisis  would  I 
am  persuaded  .be  immediate  extinction.  I  know  where 
my  danger  lies,  but  as  my  endeavours  for  the  public  ser- 
vice and  the  honour  of  your  administration  are  sincere,  I 
have  no  doubt  but  I  shall  obtain  your  protection.' 


AMBASSADORSHIP  TO  SPAIN  175 

Such  a  letter  indicates  that  Cumberland  took  a  deep 
personal  responsibility  in  his  decision  to  go  to  Madrid. 
It  is  fairly  evident  that  his  ambition  overcame  his  judg- 
ment, and  that  he  played  recklessly  for  a  high  stake.  In 
judging  the  treatment  Cumberland  received  from  the 
government  at  the  end  of  his  mission,  it  should  be  remem- 
bered that,  at  the  outset,  he  had  little  guarantee  of  suc- 
cess, and  that  it  was  largely  a  personal  venture.  In 
addition,  Cumberland  had  been  warned  against  the  jour- 
ney by  the  English  minister  at  Lisbon.  His  own  uncer- 
tainty of  mind  is  shown  by  a  letter  written  to  Hussey 
while  en  route:  'I  have  entered  on  an  arduous  service 
without  any  conditions,  and  I  fear  without  securing  to 
myself  that  sure  support,  which  they,  by  whom  and  for 
whom  I  am  employed,  ought  to  hold  forth  to  me.  .  .  . ' 
'If,'  he  adds,  with  some  acumen,  as  later  events  proved, 
'success  does  not  bear  me  through  in  this  step,  which  I 
have  taken,  my  good  intentions  will  not  stand  me  in  much 
stead.' 

Cumberland  had  left  Lisbon  on  June  8,  1780.  After 
a  ten  days'  journey,  which  reads  like  a  romance,  with 
tales  of  inns  and  Castilian  highwaymen,  he  joined  Hus- 
sey at  Aranjuez,  and  on  the  next  day  met  the  Count 
Florida  Blanca. 

All  things,  Cumberland  thought,  seemed  favourable: 
'Spain  had  received  a  recent  check  from  Admiral  Rod- 
ney, Gibraltar  had  been  relieved  with  a  high  hand,  she 
was  also  upon  very  delicate  and  dubious  terms  with 
France.  The  crisis  was  decidedly  in  my  favour;  my 
reception  flattering  in  the  extreme;  the  Spanish  nation 
was  anxious  for  peace,  and  both  court,  ecclesiastics  and 
military  professedly  anti-gallican.'  Yet  at  this  propitious 
time  the  ambassador  was  undone  by  the  unluckiest  of 


176  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

accidents.  With  spirits  somewhat  dashed  by  stories  of 
the  Gordon  riots,  yet  hopeful,  Cumberland  came  to  his 
interview  with  the  Count  Florida  Blanca:  'I  had  pre- 
pared myself  to  the  best  of  my  capacity  for  a  meeting 
and  discussion,  which  it  behoved  me  to  manage  with 
discretion  and  address,  and  which  according  to  my  view 
of  it  promised  to  crown  my  mission  with  success.  We 
were  to  unite,  and  Campo  was  to  be  present,  so  that 
when  I  entered  the  minister's  inner  chamber,  and  saw 
only  a  small  table  with  a  single  candle,  no  Campo  present 
and  no  materials  for  writing,  I  own  my  mind  misgave 
me :  I  did  not  wait  more  than  two  minutes  before  Florida 
Blanca  came  out  of  his  closet,  and  in  a  lamentable  tone 
sung  out  the  downfall  of  London;  king,  ministers  and 
government  whelmed  in  ruin,  the  rebellion  of  America 
transplanted  to  England,  and  heartily  as  he  condoled  with 
me,  how  could  he  under  such  circumstances  commit  his 
court  to  treat  with  me?' 

The  mischief  was  wrought.  No  word  from  Cumber- 
land could  allay  the  apprehensions  of  the  Spanish  court, 
nor  was  the  situation  altered  when  definite  news  arrived 
that  the  Gordon  riots  were  finally  quelled.  Spanish  con- 
fidence was  gone,  and  the  rest  of  Cumberland's  efforts 
were  piecework.  He  persisted  in  efforts  to  bring  about 
a  negotiation  in  which  the  forbidden  word,  Gibraltar, 
had  no  part,  but  what  was  foremost  in  Spanish  minds 
easily  found  an  outlet  in  their  speech.  As  Cumberland 
said:  'they  wanted  only  to  talk  about  Gibraltar,  and  I 
was  not  permitted  to  hear  it  named.'2 

2  'It  is  reported,'  says  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  June,  1782, 
'that  [Mr.  Cumberland's]  embassy  would  have  been  successful,  but  for 
the  capture  of  the  East  and  West  India  fleets  which  inspired  the  Spaniards 
with  more  confidence  than  they  had  before  possessed.' 


AMBASSADORSHIP  TO  SPAIN  177 

The  story  of  Cumberland's  life  in  the  Madrid  of  1780 
has  interest.  In  August  of  this  year,  Richard  Denison 
Cumberland,3  cousin  to  our  dramatist,  wrote  his  brother 
George:  'I  was  told  to-day  Mr.  Cumberland  has  been 
taken  great  notice  of  abroad — pray  tell  me  what  you 
have  heard  of  his  Business  there — wish  he  had  taken  you 
for  he  is  good  in  a  public  Capacity,  'tis  a  good  Road  to 
Preferment.'4 

Cumberland  had  received  flattering  evidences  of 
esteem.  The  King  gave  him,  for  his  royal  master  in 
England,  two  of  his  finest  horses,  and  celebrated  with 
him  the  birthday  of  George  the  Third.  'I  have  hinted 
at  the  surprise,'  says  Cumberland,  'which  my  friend 
Count  Kaunitz  expressed  upon  the  present  of  the  royal 
horses,  it  was  again  his  chance  to  experience  something 
of  a  like  nature,  when  he  did  me  the  honour  to  dine  with 
me  upon  the  4th  of  June,  when  with  a  few  cordial  friends 
I  was  celebrating  my  beloved  sovereign's  birth-day  in  the 
best  manner  my  obscurity  and  humble  means  allowed  of. 
On  this  occasion  I  confess  my  surprise  was  as  great  as 
his,  when  the  music  of  every  regiment  in  garrison  at 
Madrid,  not  excepting  the  Spanish  guards,  filed  into  my 
court-yard,  and  afforded  me  the  exquisite  delight  of  hear- 
ing those,  who  were  in  arms  against  my  country,  unite 
in  celebrating  the  return  of  that  day,  which  gave  its 
monarch  birth.' 

Cumberland  passed  his  many  leisure  hours  among  the 
paintings  in  the  palace,  or  with  a  group  of  friends,  all 

3  There  survives  a  letter  from  Cumberland,  written  from  Queen-Anne 
Street  on  February  16  [1772?]  to  his  cousin,  Mr.  Richard  [D.  ?]  Cumber- 
land of  Magdalene  College,  Cambridge.  The  letter  offers  encouragement 
and  advice  on  the  young  man's  entering  upon  his  university  career.  The 
British  Museum,  Add.  MS.  36491  f.  12. 

*  Cumberland  Letters,  267. 


178  RICH4RD  CUMBERLAND 

of  the  Spanish  aristocracy.  Among  these  he  names  the 
Count  Pallavicini,  the  Nuncio  Colonna,  at  that  time  car- 
dinal elect,  and  others  of  distinction.  In  walking  through 
the  Escurial  on  one  occasion,  Cumberland  surprised  the 
King  in  his  bed-chamber.  'The  good  man/  says  Cum- 
berland, 'had  been  on  his  knees  before  his  private  altar, 
and  upon  the  opening  of  the  door,  rose ;  when  seeing  me 
in  the  act  of  retiring,  he  bade  me  stay,  and  condescended 
to  show  me  some  very  curious  South  American  deer, 
extremely  small  and  elegantly  formed,  which  he  kept 
under  a  netting;  and  amongst  others  a  little  green 
monkey,  the  most  diminutive  and  most  beautiful  of  its 
species  I  had  ever  seen.'  The  monarch  was  'humbly 
lodged,'  having  but  'a  small  camp  bed,  miserably  equipped 
with  curtains  of  faded  old  damask,  that  had  once  been 
crimson,'  but  beside  it  was  the  Mater  Dolorosa  of  Titian.5 
Madrid  boasted  but  a  single  theatre,  'small,  dark,  ill- 
furnished,  and  ill-attended.'  Yet  from  this  unworthy 
home  of  the  drama,  Cumberland  carried  away  an  enrich- 
ing experience.  'When,'  he  says,  'the  celebrated  tragic 
actress,  known  by  the  title  of  the  Tiranna  played,  it 
was  a  treat,  which  I  should  suppose  no  other  stage  then 
in  Europe  could  compare  with.  That  extraordinary 
woman,  whose  real  name  I  do  not  remember,  and  whose 
real  origin  cannot  be  traced,  .  .  .  was  not  less  formed 
to  strike  beholders  with  the  beauty  and  commanding 
majesty  of  her  person,  than  to  astonish  all  that  heard  her 
by  the  powers,  that  nature  and  art  had  combined  to  give 
her.'  A  friend  having  told  the  actress  that  Cumberland 

6  In  the  Escurial  Cumberland  examined  'a  curious  manuscript,  pur- 
porting to  be  letters  of  Brutus.  .  .  .  These  letters  are  written  in  Greek, 
and  are  referred  to  by  Doctor  Bentley  in  his  controversy  with  Boyle  as 
notoriously  spurious,  fabricated  by  the  sophists,  of  which  there  can  be  no 
doubt.'  See  Nichols,  Literary  Anecdotes  of  the  Eighteenth  Century,  2.168. 


AMBASSADORSHIP  TO  SPAIN  179 

was  a  writer  for  the  stage,  it  was  agreed  that  he  should 
attend  the  theatre  only  when  she  sent  for  him,  that  he 
might  see  her  at  the  height  of  her  art.  Cumberland's 
account  of  her  acting  and  his  meeting  with  her  follows: 
'I  had  not  then  enough  of  the  language  to  understand 
much  more  than  the  incidents  and  actions  of  the  play, 
which  was  of  the  deepest  cast  of  tragedy,  for  in  the  course 
of  the  plot  she  murdered  her  infant  children,  and  exhib- 
ited them  dead  on  the  stage  lying  on  each  side  of  her, 
whilst  she,  sitting  on  the  bare  floor  between  them  (her 
attitude,  action,  features,  tones,  defying  all  description) 
presented  such  a  high-wrought  picture  of  hysteric  phrensy, 
laughing  wild  amidst  severest  woe,  as  placed  her  in  my 
judgment  at  the  very  summit  of  her  art;  in  fact  I  have 
no  conception  that  the  powers  of  acting  can  be  carried 
higher,  and  such  was  the  effect  upon  the  audience,  that 
whilst  the  spectators  in  the  pit,  having  caught  a  kind  of 
sympathetic  phrensy  from  the  scene,  were  rising  up  in  a 
tumultuous  manner,  the  word  was  given  out  by  authority 
for  letting  fall  the  curtain,  and  a  catastrophe,  prob- 
ably too  strong  for  exhibition,  was  not  allowed  to  be 
completed. 

*A  few  minutes  had  passed,  when  this  wonderful 
creature,  led  in  by  Pietra  Santa,6  entered  my  box;  the 
artificial  paleness  of  her  cheeks,  her  eyes,  which  she  had 
dyed  of  a  bright  vermilion  round  the  edges  of  the  lids, 
her  fine  arms  bare  to  the  shoulders,  the  wild  magnificence 
of  her  attire,  and  the  profusion  of  her  dishevelled  locks, 
glossy  black  as  the  plumage  of  the  raven,  gave  her  the 
appearance  of  something  so  more  than  human,  such  a 
Sybil,  such  an  imaginary  being,  so  awful,  so  impressive, 

6  'Count  Pietra  Santa,  lieutenant  of  the  Italian  band  of  bodyguards 
was  my  most  dear  and  intimate  friend.'  Memoirs,  2.103. 


i8o  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

that  my  blood  chilled  as  she  approached  me  not  to  ask 
but  to  claim  my  applause,  demanding  of  me  if  I  had  ever 
seen  any  actress,  that  could  be  compared  with  her  in  my 
own,  or  any  other,  country.' 

Cumberland's  family  found  much  favour  in  the  capital. 
His  wife  and  daughters  were  entertained  by  the  Princess 
of  Asturias,  and  the  young  ladies  who  so  dismayed  Fanny 
Burney7  wakened  Madrid.  'When,'  says  Cumberland 
with  pride,  'these  young  Englishwomen,  habited  in  their 
Spanish  dresses,  (and  attractive,  as  I  may  presume  to 
say  they  were  by  the  bloom  and  beauty  of  their  persons) 
passed  the  streets  of  Madrid,  their  coach  was  brought 
to  frequent  stops,  and  hardly  found  its  passage  through 
the  crowd.'  Count  Kaunitz,8  the  imperial  ambassador, 
wooed  without  success  Elizabeth  Cumberland,  dying  soon 
after  her  departure  from  Spain.  The  Count  Pallavicini 
paid  his  attentions,  in  turn,  to  both  the  daughters. 

In  the  meantime,  the  negotiations  for  a  separate  treaty 
dragged,  and  then  stopped.  The  French  ambassador, 
Count  D'Estaing,  blocked  Cumberland  successfully  and 
repeatedly,  and  Hussey's  selfishness  and  effrontery  be- 
came so  intolerable  that  Cumberland  was  glad  to  see  him 
off,  at  last,  for  England.  A  letter  from  Lord  Hills- 
borough  written  on  December  9,  1780,  showed  that  there 
was  little  hope  at  the  English  court  of  the  accomplish- 
ment of  Cumberland's  purpose.  One  sentence  was  sig- 
nificant: 'I  do  not,  .  .  .'  wrote  the  Secretary  of  State, 
'as  yet  signify  to  you  the  king's  command  for  your  return, 
though  I  see  little  utility  in  your  remaining  at  Madrid.' 
Cumberland  was  now  prepared  for  a  recall;  the  futility 
of  his  mission  was  daily  becoming  more  apparent,  Florida 

7  See  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  1.286-8. 

8  Count  Kaunitz  was  one   of   the  four  sons  of  the   famous   Austrian 
statesman,  Wenzel  Anton  Kaunitz-Rierburg. 


AMBASSADORSHIP  TO  SPAIN  181 

Blanca  talking  of  nothing  save  Gibraltar.  Soon  after- 
wards, the  sword  fell,  and  Cumberland's  Spanish  mission 
was  added  to  the  list  of  fruitless  and  forgotten  political 
ventures. 

After  a  farewell  to  his  friends  Cumberland  began  the 
return.  Two  Spanish  coaches  carried  his  family,  now 
including  the  infant  daughter,  Frances  Marianne,  and 
a  troop  of  servants  and  outriders  accompanied  him.  At 
a  place  on  the  journey  between  Valladolid  and  Burgos 
Cumberland  offered  his  snuff  box  'to  a  grave  elderly  man, 
who  seemed  of  the  better  sort  of  Castilians,  and  who 
appeared  to  have  thrown  himself  in  [his]  way.  .  .  .' 
The  stranger  taking  Cumberland's  snuff,  looked  earnestly 
at  him,  and  said: '  "I  am  not  afraid,  sir,  of  trusting  myself 
to  you,  whom  I  know  to  be  an  Englishman,  and  a  person, 
in  whose  honour  I  may  perfectly  repose.  But  there  is 
death  concealed  in  many  a  man's  snuff  box,  and  I  would 
seriously  advise  you  on  no  account  to  take  a  single  pinch 
from  the  box  of  any  stranger,  who  may  offer  it  to  you." 
This  conversation  recurred  to  Cumberland,  when,  a  few 
days  later,  he  was  seized  with  terrible  pains  in  his  head. 
On  the  seventeenth  day  he  reached  Bayonne,  where  he 
sank  down  in  a  delirious  fever  which  granted  him  a  mer- 
ciful oblivion  of  his  utter  financial  ruin.  Unwearying 
care  saved  his  life,  but  he  arrived  in  England  disap- 
pointed, broken  in  health,  and  virtually  a  bankrupt.  'Mr. 
Cumberland,'  says  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  July, 
1781,  'who  lately  arrived  from  Spain,  was  at  Court,  and 
was  closeted  a  considerable  time  with  his  Majesty/  A 
long  account  of  financial  relations  between  Cumberland 
and  the  government  in  respect  to  the  Spanish  mission  is 
given  in  the  Memoirs.  It  is,  however,  enough  t6  say 


iS2  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

that  Cumberland  was  refused  any  reimbursement  for 
expenditures  hardly  to  be  endured  by  any  private  for- 
tune.9 Cumberland  says :  'I  solemnly  aver  that  I  had  the 
positive  pledge  of  the  Treasury  through  Mr.  Robinson 
for  replacing  every  draft  I  should  make  upon  my  banker/ 
*I  wearied  the  door  of  Lord  North/  he  says,  'till  his  very 
servants  drove  me  from  it.'  A  long  memorial,  detailing 
his  sufferings  and  the  promises  of  the  government,  availed 
him  nothing.  The  government  evidently  considered  that 
Cumberland's  mission  was  undertaken,  in  all  respects, 
at  his  own  risk,  and  that,  in  denying  him  remuneration 
for  fourteen  costly  months  in  Spain,  they  followed  the 
letter,  if  not  the  spirit,  of  justice.  It  is  unlikely  that 
Cumberland  received  any  stipend,  since  he  states  flatly 
in  the  Memoirs  that  he  did  not,  and  since  he  died  poor. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  has  been  noted  that  letters  exist 
proving  that  he  received  from  the  Crown  a  patent  making 
him  a  Provost  Marshal,  and  Mudford10  speaks  of  the  air 
of  mystery  which  pervades  his  narrative.  The  conclusion 
can  only  be  that,  while  the  exact  facts  are  unknown, 
Cumberland  received  no  adequate  reward  for  the  sacrifice 
of  his  fortune. 

Walpole  has  two  characteristic  comments  upon  the 
expedition.  In  August  of  1780  he  writes  Mason  that 
other  events  are  'a  little  obscured  already  by  the  entire 
capture  of  our  East  and  West  Indian  Fleets  by  the 
Spanish  squadron,  under  the  nose  of  the  sentimental  Dr. 
Cumberland.  I  suppose  he  will  be  recalled  now  like  the 
illustrious  Storemont  and  Eden  as  he  has  executed  his 

9  Cumberland  affirms  that  the  King  of  Spain,  through  Florida  Blanca, 
offered  to  reimburse  him  for  his  expenses,  but  that  he  refused. 

10  See  Mudford,  Life  of  Richard  Cumberland,  352-89,  for  his  account 
of  the  journey  to  Spain. 


AMBASSADORSHIP  TO  SPAIN  183 

Mission;   for  we   contrive   to   send   Proxies  to    receive 
affronts.'11 

A  few  months  after  Cumberland's  return  Walpole 
writes  with,  it  must  be  confessed,  a  rather  keen  sense  of 
the  ridiculous  side  of  Cumberland's  mission:  4I  should  as 
soon  admire  Mr.  Cumberland's  successful  negotiations 
in  Spain,  where  he  stayed  begging  peace  till  Gibraltar  was 
battered  to  the  ground.  I  hope  he  will  write  an  ode  him- 
self on  the  treaty  he  did  not  make,  and  like  Pindar  fill  it 
with  the  genealogy  of  the  mule  on  which  he  ambled  from 
the  Prado  to  the  Escurial,  and  when  I  am  a  mule  I  will 
read  it.'12 

11  Letters  of  Horace  Walpole,  Toynbee  ed.,  11.261-2. 

™Ibid.,  12.13-4.  In  the  British  Museum  may  be  found  The  Diplomatic 
Papers  of  Richard  Cumberland,  mostly  concerning  the  negotiations  with 
Spain,  1780,  1781,  including  an  autograph  draft  of  a  memorial  of  Cum- 
berland to  Lord  North,  for  payment  for  his  services.  Add.  MS.  28851. 
This  book  was  read  by  the  King,  also  by  Lord  Walsingham,  when 
nominated  as  ambassador  to  Spain. 


CHAPTER  XI 

AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  AS  MAN  OF  LETTERS. 

-THE  WALLOONS.— THE  MYSTERIOUS 

HUSBAND 

r¥l  HE  Spanish  fiasco  would  seem  enough,  but  ill  for- 
-•-  tune  had  not  done  with  Cumberland.  At  the  end 
of  Lord  North's  administration  he  was  dismissed  from 
his  position  as  secretary  of  the  Board  of  Trade  and  given 
a  compensation.  (By  the  operation  of  this  reform,'  says 
Cumberland,  'after  I  had  sacrificed  the  patrimony  I  was 
born  to,  a  very  considerable  reduction  was  made  even  of 
the  remnant,  that  was  left  me.'  Necessity  demanded 
economy,  and  in  1781  Cumberland  moved  his  family  to 
Tunbridge  Wells.  The  house  at  Tunbridge  was  destined 
to  be  a  hive  of  literary  industry  for  thirty  years.  During 
this  time  were  written  plays,  averaging  one  a  year,  and 
three  long  novels,  besides  numerous  essays  and  fragments 
of  verse.  Either  from  a  desire  to  forget  a  bitter  experi- 
ence of  public  life,  or  from  sheer  busyness,  Cumberland 
at  once  devoted  himself  wholly  to  reading  and  writing. 
His  eminence  as  a  dramatic  writer  and  his  great  con- 
versational powers  had  earlier  gained  him  entrance  into 
literary  circles;  his  name  seemed  linked  with  nearly 
every  great  one  of  the  century.  A  slight  figure  in  John- 
son's circle,  he  became  a  powerful  one  in  later  years  be- 
cause he  was  its  only  survivor.  Between  1781  and  1800 
he  saw  the  last  of  Johnson,  Reynolds,  Gibbon,  Boswell, 
Burke,  and  Walpole;  so  that  by  the  beginning  of  the 


AT  TUN  BRIDGE  WELLS  185 

century  he  had  attained  the  outlook  of  the  man  who  has 
outlived  his  generation. 

Cumberland's  social  life  during  the  first  score  of  years 
of  his  living  at  Tunbridge  is  closely  bound  up  in  his 
dramatic  friends.  He  is  on  good  terms  with  Holcroft; 
Michael  Kelly  and  Bannister  run  down  to  Tunbridge 
Wells;  and  there  is  many  a  literary  dinner  at  Billy's. 
At  Tunbridge  Wells  is  his  real  domain.  Here  is  his 
library,  the  grist  for  innumerable  plays  and  books,  here 
his  garden,  and  here  are  his  dependants  who  regarded 
him  with  genuine  reverence.  For  broken  health,  and  for 
a  spirit  depressed  by  misfortunes,  Tunbridge  Wells  must 
have  seemed  a  welcome  refuge. 

A  result  of  the  leisure  hours  in  Madrid  appeared  in 
1782,  in  two  volumes  of  Anecdotes  of  eminent  Painters  in 
Spain.  'Mr.  Cumberland,'  says  The  Gentleman's  Maga- 
zine for  April,  1782,  'in  his  late  excursion  to  the  conti- 
nent succeeded  much  better  as  a  cognoscenti  than  a  poli- 
tician,' and  adds  that  'on  the  whole  Mr.  Cumberland's 
"Anecdotes"  both  in  matter  and  manner,  are  a  very 
proper  appendage  to  Mr.  Walpole's.'1  Although  this 
book  is  a  fairly  trustworthy  history  of  the  Spanish  school 
of  painting,  and  comprises,  in  addition,  a  catalogue  of  the 
paintings  in  the  royal  palace  at  Madrid,  Cumberland's 
belief  in  its  future  was  ill  founded:  'If,'  he  says,  'it  were 
not  a  ridiculous  thing  for  an  author  to  give  his  own  works 
a  good  word,  I  should  be  tempted  to  risque  it  in  the 
instance  of  these  two  volumes  of  anecdotes;  forasmuch 
as  I  bear  them  in  grateful  remembrance,  as  having 
cheered  some  of  my  heaviest  hours,  and  as  being  the  first 

1  Walpole's  Anecdotes  of  Painting  in  England  appeared  from  1762  to 
1771. 


i86  RICH4RD  CUMBERLAND 

productions  sent  by  me  into  the  world  after  my  return  out 
of  Spain.' 

Walpole's  jealousy  bubbled  over  again:  'Cumberland's 
book,'  he  wrote  Mason,  'is  called  Anecdotes  of  Spanish 
Painters.  To  show  he  has  been  in  Spain  (of  which  he 
boasts  though  with  little  reason)  he  spells  every  name 
(that  is  not  Spanish)  as  they  do;  the  Fleming  Rubens  he 
calls  (to  Englishmen)  Pedro  Pablo  Rubens  and  Vitruvius 
Viturbio.  Two  pages  are  singularly  delectable;  one  of 
them  was  luckily  criticized  this  morning  in  the  Public 
Advertiser,  and  saves  me  the  trouble  of  transcribing. 
Speaking  of  Subjection  of  Spain  to  the  Carthaginians,  he 
says  "When  Carthage  was  her  mistress  it  is  not  easy  to 
conceive  a  situation  more  degrading  for  a  noble  people 
than  to  bear  the  yoke  of  mercantile  republicans,  and  do 
homage  at  the  shop-boards  of  upstart  demagogues;" 
would  not  one  think,'  continues  Walpole,  and  his  irritable 
wit  was  never  more  pointless,  'it  was  a  Vere  or  a  Percy 
that  wrote  this  impertinent  condolence,  and  not  a  little 
commis — [Cumberland]  goes  on — "Surely  it  is  in  human 
nature  to  prefer  the  tyranny  of  the  most  absolute  despot 
that  ever  wore  a  crown  to  the  mercenary  and  imposing 
insults  of  a  trader.  Who  would  not  rather  appeal  to  a 
court  than  a  compting  house,"  most  worthy  ejaculation. 
This  in  a  free  commercial  country,  and  from  a  petty  scribe 
in  office!  .  .  .'2 

Walpole  had  not  forgotten  Cumberland  during  the 
residence  in  Spain;  he  eagerly  scanned  the  dramatic 
reviews  for  his  enemy's  unfortunate  plays.  To  the  satirist 
Cumberland  had  become  a  kind  of  nether  touchstone  for 
comedy.  The  Anecdotes  he  considered  merely  'cox- 

2  Letters  of  Horace  Walpole,  Toynbee  ed.,  12.233-4.  The  Anecdotes 
was  unfortunate  in  many  ways;  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  was  offended  by  a 
slighting  reference. 


AT  TUN  BRIDGE  WELLS  187 

combical,'  but  he  assailed  the  plays  mercilessly.  When  in 
1781  Clergyman  Pratt  offered  to  the  unappreciative 
world  his  tragedy  of  The  Fair  Circassian,  Walpole  ex- 
claimed sympathetically;  'Bad  enough  to  be  Cumber- 
land's!'3 

The  dramatist  was,  indeed,  writing  with  suicidal  zeal. 
The  pilgrimage  to  Spain  had  failed  to  dampen  his  ardour 
for  play-writing;  while  there  he  had  apparently  collected 
material  for  a  new  comedy,  which  was  finished  and  chris- 
tened The  Walloons  before  he  settled  at  Tunbridge 
Wells.  The  play  was  acted  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre 
on  April  20,  1782.  A  hint  of  the  character  of  its  recep- 
tion may  be  had  in  a  letter  from  Doctor  Johnson.  He 
wrote  Mrs.  Thrale  that  Cumberland  had  made  £5  by  the 
play  and  'lost  his  plume.'4  The  Walloons  was  evidently 
a  product  of  the  months  in  Spain.  The  plot  is  intricate 
and  thin. 

Father  Sullivan  and  Lady  Dangle  buy  silence  of  each 
other,  he  wishing  concealment  of  his  political  schemes, 
and  she  Sir  Solomon  Dangle's  ignorance  that  her  first 
husband  lives.  This  comedy  has  the  old  figures  of  the 
missing  character,  the  adventuress,  the  henpecked  hus- 
band, and  the  stage  villain,  while  a  coterie  consisting  of 
Pat  Corey,  Tipple,  and  Kitty  lend  a  dubious  vein  of 
humour  to  the  piece.  The  arrival  of  Lady  Dangle's  first 
husband  effects  a  denouement  which  involves  the  im- 
prisoning of  Lady  Dangle  in  a  convent,  the  release  of 
Sir  Solomon,  and  the  arrest  of  Father  Sullivan. 

In  reviewing  the  play,  The  Westminster  Magazine 
for  April  asserts  that  4Mr.  Cumberland's  late  residence 
in  Spain  was  expected  to  produce  more  advantage  to  the 

8  Letters  of  Horace  Walpole,  Toynbee  ed.,  12.258. 
4  Letters  of  Doctor  Samuel  Johnson,  Hill  ed.,  2.252. 


i88  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

dramatic,  than  to  the  political  world,'  and  regrets  that 
Cumberland's  unavoidable  acquaintance  with  Lopez  de 
la  Vega,  'the  father  ...  of  pantomimical  plays'  should 
have  'diverted  the  simple  and  elegant  pathos,  by  which  he 
acquired  so  much  deserved  reputation  in  The  West 
Indian,  to  tread  the  thorny  and  intricate  mazes  of 
modern  farces,  called  comedies,  in  which  he  will  never 
succeed.' 

In  spite  of  this  supposed  lapse  of  Cumberland  from  the 
higher  moral  tone,  the  critic  pays  him  the  tribute  of 
thinking  that  the  play  'has  a  kind  of  merit  which  no 
dramatic  writer  has  laid  claim  to  in  the  last  ten  or  fifteen 
years,  except  the  author  himself,  in  The  West  Indian; 
and  Mr.  Colman  in  "The  Suicide"5 — we  mean  original- 
ity!' 'Two  or  three  of  the  characters  of  this  play,'  the 
reviewer  observes,  'are  marked  with  new  and  genuine 
colours.  All  our  writers  of  late  have  served  up 
"hachees,"  very  decently  cooked,  and  very  tolerably 
seasoned;  but  an  Englishman  wishes  now  and  then  to  sit 
down  to  a  fresh  joint  of  meat.  The  present  is  a  little 
"smutted"  in  taking  up,  but  it  will  be  better  than  any 
"hachee."  ' 

Out  of  this  intricate  comedy,  having  'a  redundance  of 
business  which,  indeed,  would  have  sufficed  for  two  or 
three  plays  in  the  hands  of  some  dramatist,'6  emerges 
the  character  of  Father  Sullivan,  the  conspirer  for  the 
Walloons.  Henderson,  the  actor,  was  responsible  for 
the  creation  of  this  forceful  stage  figure.  He  suggested 
to  Cumberland  that  he  construct  a  character  'in  the  cast 
of  Congreve's  "Double  Dealer."  "Make  me,"  he  said, 
"a  fine  bold-faced  villain,  the  direst  and  the  deepest  in 

5  Colman's  play,   The  Suicide,  was  acted  with  little  success  at  Drury 
Lane  Theatre  on  July  11,  1778. 

6  Biographia  Dramatica,  4.389. 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  189 

nature  I  care  not,  so  you  do  but  give  me  motives,  strong 
enough  to  bear  me  out,  and  such  a  prominency  of  natural 
character,  as  shall  secure  me  from  contempt  of  my 
audience;  whatever  other  passions  I  can  inspire  them 
with  will  never  sink  me  in  their  esteem."  '7  Beneath  his 
fearful  stage-dye  Father  Sullivan's  malevolence  is  con- 
vincing. Henderson  was  excellent  in  the  part,  and 
during  The  Walloons'  short  run  of  six  or  eight  nights,8 
he  exhibited  a  most  inimitable  specimen  of  his  powers  in 
Father  Sullivan. 

Perhaps  Cumberland  found  a  solace  for  this  and  other 
failures  in  the  quiet  of  Tunbridge  Wells.  One  reason  for 
his  selection  of  the  village  as  a  place  of  abode  was  its 
proximity  to  Stonelands.  Here  lived,  during  part  of  the 
year,  Lord  George  Germain,  Viscount  Sackville.  An 
hour's  ride  brought  Cumberland  to  his  patron  and  friend. 
Wraxall  describes  Sackville's  patronage  of  authors,  fol- 
lowing the  custom  of  his  house,  and  observes  that  many 
of  Cumberland's  plays  were  written  at  Stonelands  or  at 
Drayton,  Wraxall  himself  having  several  times  assisted 
at  the  reading  of  tragedies  or  comedies.  Sackville  de- 
scribes in  a  letter  to  Wraxall  the  composition  of  The 
Mysterious  Husband,  a  play  soon  to  appear,  and  ex- 
presses his  forebodings  as  to  the  outcome.  'Cumberland,' 
he  says,  'is  writing  a  new  sort  of  tragedy  in  familiar  dia- 
logue, instead  of  blank  verse;  for  which  I  conclude  he  will 
be  abused  till  he  has  a  severe  fit  of  bile.'  There  follows 
a  hint  of  Cumberland  with  his  admirers:  'Four  acts  are 
finished.  The  ladies  have  attended  the  reading  of  them, 

7  Cumberland  denied  that  Father  Sullivan  was  an  adumbration  of  the 
Abbe  Hussey. 

8  Genest,  6.227.     Genest  gives  six  performances  to  The  Walloons,  but 
The  Theatrical  Register  of  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  credits  the  play 
with  eight. 


igo  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

and  say  they  are  very  moving.  ...  I  declined  the 
pleasure,'  says  Sackville,  'because  I  fear  I  never  can 
commend  any  performance  equal  to  the  expectation  of 
the  author.'9 

At  times,  however,  Sackville  lent  a  hand  in  the  revi- 
sions, and  even  dared  to  criticize  the  plays  of  his  friend. 
He  writes  Wraxall:  'Cumberland  .  .  .  has  finished  a  new 
comedy;  and  I  have  seen  it,  and  the  dialogue  is  remark- 
ably well.  There  was  something  in  the  characters,  in  the 
moral  part  of  them,  that  I  disliked  and  I  was  in  doubt 
whether  I  might  venture  to  declare  it.  But,  as  I  cannot 
forbear  speaking  truth,  out  it  came ;  and  instead  of  being 
offended,  he  adopted  the  idea ;  and  it  is  all  to  be  altered 
according  to  my  plan.  Was  I  not  a  bold  man  to  attack 
an  author?'10  This  comedy,  which  Sackville  watched 
develop,  was  The  Natural  Son.  The  character  of 
Dumps,  which  he  disliked,  was  finally  removed  from  the 
cast. 

Cumberland  has  commemorated  his  friendship  for 
Sackville  in  various  ways.  He  published  in  The  Gentle- 
man's Magazine,  in  1782,  a  poem,  On  the  Marriage  of 
Miss  Sackville  to  Mr.  Herbert,  awkward  verses  in  honour 
of  his  patron's  daughter,  Eliza.  He  also  celebrated  his 
friend  in  The  Observer.  The  Diary  of  a  Lady-In-PP ait- 
ing,  a  quaint  memoir  of  the  time,  describes  the  charm  of 
this  essay,  with  its  account  of  Cumberland's  visit  to  Sack- 
ville's  home  after  his  death.  'What  hours  of  placid 
delight,'  says  the  Observer,  'have  I  passed  within  these 
walls!  Have  I  ever  heard  a  word  here  fall  from  his 
lips,  that  I  have  wished  him  to  recall?  .  .  .'1X 

Cumberland  pictures  Sackville  at  the  close  of  his  life, 

9  Wraxall,  Posthumous  Memoirs,  1.423-4. 

10 1  bid.,  1.423-4. 

11  The  Observer,  No.  48. 


AT  TUN  BRIDGE  WELLS  191 

an  aged  soldier  riding  slowly  about  his  estate,  followed 
by  his  groom,  and  giving  sixpences  to  the  children  of  the 
poor  who  opened  the  gates  for  him.  At  church,  Cumber- 
land says,  'he  had  a  way  of  standing  up  in  sermon-time 
for  the  purpose  of  reviewing  the  congregation,  and  awing 
the  idlers  into  decorum,  that  never  failed  to  remind  me 
of  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  .  .  .  but  when,'  says  Cumber- 
land, 'to  the  total  overthrow  of  all  gravity,  in  his  zeal  to 
encourage  the  efforts  of  a  very  young  declaimer  in  the 
pulpit,  I  heard  him  cry  out  to  the  Reverend  Mr.  Henry 
Eatoff  in  the  middle  of  his  sermon — "Well  done, 
Harry!"  it  was  irresistible.'  At  another  time  'when  his 
ear  .  .  .  had  been  tortured  by  a  tone  most  glaringly  dis- 
cordant, he  set  his  mark  upon  the  culprit  by  calling  out  to 
him  by  name,  and  loudly  saying,  "Out  of  tune,  Tom 
Baker—!'" 

An  account  of  Sackville  by  Cumberland,  entitled  the 
Character  of  the  late  Lord  discount  Sackville,  a  pamphlet 
published  shortly  after  Sackville's  death,  led  The  Gentle- 
man's Magazine  for  January,  1786,  to  say:  'His  surviv- 
ing friend  Cumberland  has  here,  with  great  precision, 
delineated  the  features  of  [Lord  Sackville's]  mind,  and 
is  highly  commendable  for  giving  his  testimony  in  favour 
of  one  whom  he  "not  without  reason,  thought  well,"  but 
"whom  too  many  conspired  to  traduce."  'I  have,'  said 
a  correspondent  in  the  March  issue  of  the  same  year,  'too 
much  regard  to  truth,  and  love  of  justice,  not  to  agree 
with  Mr.  Cumberland,  that  Lord  George  Germain  was 
an  injured  man.'  For  Cumberland  himself  disbelieved 
fully  in  the  story  of  Sackville  at  Minden.12  'He  would 
says  he,  'talk  plainly,  temperately  and  briefly  to  me,  as 

12  Lord  Sackville  was  accused  of  cowardice  at  the  battle  of  Minden, 
in  1759,  and  was  dismissed  from  the  service. 


192  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

his  manner  was,  provided  I  would  promise  him  to  deal 
sincerely,  and  not  spare  to  press  him  on  such  points,  as 
stuck  with  me  for  want  of  explanation.  .  .  .  When  I 
compare  what  he  said  to  me  in  his  last  moments  (not  two 
hours  before  he  expired)  with  what  he  stated  at  this  con- 
ference, if  I  did  not  from  my  heart,  and  upon  the  most 
entire  conviction  of  my  reason  and  understanding, 
solemnly  acquit  that  injured  man,  (now  gone  to  his 
account)  of  the  opprobrious  and  false  imputations,  de- 
posed against  him  at  his  trial,  I  must  be  either  brutally 
ignorant,  or  wilfully  obstinate  against  the  truth.' 

Almost  the  last  words  of  Sackville  were  addressed  to 
Cumberland:  '  uYou  see  me  now  in  those  moments,"  he 
said  on  his  deathbed,  uwhen  no  disguise  will  serve,  and 
when  the  spirit  of  a  man  must  be  proved.  I  have  a  mind 
perfectly  resigned,  and  at  peace  within  itself.  I  have 
done  with  this  world,  and  what  I  have  done  in  it,  I  have 
done  for  the  best;  I  hope  and  trust  I  am  prepared  for  the 
next.  Tell  not  me  of  all  that  passes  in  health  and  pride 
of  heart;  these  are  the  moments,  in  which  a  man  must  be 
searched,  and  remember  that  I  die,  as  you  see  me,  with  a 
tranquil  conscience  and  content — "  '13 

Cumberland's  memorial  to  his  friend  was  discussed  in 
an  interview  which  Fanny  Burney  had  with  His  Majesty 
in  1785:  'The  King,'  runs  the  Diary,  'said  he  had  just 
been  looking  over  a  new  pamphlet,  of  Mr.  Cumberland's, 
upon  the  character  of  Lord  Sackville. 

"I  have  been  asking  Sir  George  Baker,"  said  he,  "if 
he  had  read  it,  and  he  told  me  yes;  but  that  he  could  not 
find  out  why  Cumberland  had  written  it.  However,  that, 

13  See  The  Memoirs  of  Stockdale,  1.429:  'I  hope,'  says  the  author  of 
this  work,  'that  lord  SACKVILLE'S  old  confidential  friend;  [sic']  the  learned, 
and  ingenious  Mr.  Cumberland,  is  still  living,  and  well.  He  can  never 
forget  the  last  scene  of  his  patron's  mortal  state.' 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  193 

I  think,  I  found  out  in  the  second  page.  For  there  he 
takes  an  opportunity  to  give  a  high  character  of  himself." 

'He  then  enlarged  more  upon  the  subject,  very  frankly 
declaring  in  what  points  he  differed  from  Mr.  Cumber- 
land about  Lord  Sackville;  but,'  concludes  Miss  Burney, 
4as  I  neither  knew  him,  nor  had  read  the  pamphlet,  I 
could  not  at  all  enter  into  the  subject.'14 

The  Mysterious  Husband,  which  Sackville  had  watched 
take  form,  appeared  at  Covent  Garden  on  January  28, 

1783- 

The  tragedy,  which  is  in  prose,  deals  with  the  unpleas- 
ant theme,  not  unfamiliar  in  literature,  of  the  secret 
marriages  of  a  father  and  son  to  the  same  woman.  The 
action  of  the  tragedy  rises  to  a  climax  by  a  series  of  dis- 
coveries. Lady  Davenant,  living  wholly  estranged  from 
her  husband,  learns  that  Marianne,  the  sister  of  Dormer, 
her  lover,  is  privately  married  to  the  younger  Davenant; 
Marianne  finds,  in  turn,  that  a  former  husband  is  not 
dead  as  supposed,  but  alive  in  London;  and  Lady  Dave- 
nant's  terrible  discovery  is  that  Lord  Davenant  is  this 
husband.  Release  for  all  comes  in  the  death  of  Lord 
Davenant  by  suicide. 

The  Mysterious  Husband  was  Cumberland's  first  trial 
of  the  popular  field  of  domestic  tragedy.  The  plot  of 
the  play  was  suggested  by  Walpole's  Mysterious 
Mother,™  which  deals  with  similar  events  veiled  in 
the  decent  obscurity  of  an  earlier  age.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  intrusion  of  such  a  subject  upon  a  moral  theatre- 
going  public,  and  notwithstanding  the  faults  of  a  play 
which  caused  Walpole  to  growl  that  it  was  no  more  in 
prose  than  any  of  Cumberland's  plays,16  the  tragedy  was 

14  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  2.341. 

15  Horace  Walpole's  Mysterious  Mother  appeared  in  1768. 

16  Letters  of  Horace  Walpole,  Toynbee  ed.,  12.395. 


194  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 


moderately  successful,   and  again  brought  hope  to  the 
author's  friends. 

Cumberland's  belief  in  the  drama  as  an  instrument  of 
moral  reform  was  growing  with  the  years.  The  Feb- 
ruary number  of  The  Town  and  Country  Magazine 
acknowledges  the  'several  affecting  situations,  in  which 
the  dialogue  is  animated  and  characteristic,'  but  ob- 
serves especially  that  aspect  of  the  play  so  completely 
hidden  from  the  modern  reader:  'Mr.  Cumberland's 
design  in  this  tragedy  is  certainly  to  lash,  expose,  and 
punish,  with  poetic  justice,  fashionable  vice.'  Likewise 
The  Universal  Magazine  of  this  month  says:  'Being 
written  in  a  stile  of  elegant  and  pathetic  prose,  it  seems 
to  have  that  great  end  in  contemplation,  of  attacking  by 
melancholy  consequences  the  fatal  effects  of  fashionable 
vice.'17 

The  interest  of  the  play  centered  largely  in  Lord  and 
Lady  Davenant.  Lord  Davenant  seems  to  us  a  very  un- 
certain, mawkish  villain,  but  The  British  Magazine 
declares  that  'the  variety  of  passions  exhibited  by  Lord 
Davenant,  as  they  alternately  spring  from  the  effect  of 
his  treachery,  his  tyranny,  his  remorse,  and  the  struggles 
of  native  honour,  compound  a  character  of  the  strongest 
and  most  tragic  complexion.'  Cumberland  succeeds  in 
enveloping  the  leading  characters  of  The  Mysterious 
Husband  in  a  strange  sentimental  gloom,  and  something 
of  this  was  felt  by  the  critics  of  the  time.  'Lord  Dave- 
nant,' says  the  reviewer,  'is  highly  wrought,  but  the  tints 
are  too  uniformly  dark  and  gloomy.  The  scene  of  his 
exit,  in  the  fifth  act,  is  shocking,  and  rather  terrifies  than 
affects.'18  'La'dy  Davenant,'  says  Cumberland,  ' .  .  .  I 

17  Genest,  7.265. 

18  The  British  Magazine,  February,  1783. 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  195 

am  inclined  to  consider  as  the  best  female  part  I  have 
ever  tendered  to  the  stage.'  The  sentimental  interest  in 
virtue  in  uneasy  station  might  well  have  been  inspired  by 
Lady  Davenant.  'The  conduct  of  Lady  Davenant,'  says 
The  British  Magazine,  'towards  her  lord,  her  lover 
Dormer,  her  rival  Marianne,  Charles  Davenant,  Sir 
Henry  Harlowe,  and  Sir  Edmund  Travers,  rises  by  a 
progression  of  novel  and  affecting  incidents,  to  a  perfec- 
tion of  character  beyond  which  convention  never  carried 
any  fabulous  heroine,  and  gives  employment  to  many  very 
affecting  scenes  and  situations.'"  'The  epilogue,'  says 
The  Universal  Magazine,  'was  rather  too  satirical  on 
our  modern  fair  sex,  in  asserting  that  there  was  not  such 
an  amiable  wife  now  to  be  found  as  Lady  Davenant. 
We  hope  for  the  honour  of  the  sex,  that,  even  in  this  age 
of  dissipation,  there  are  many  Lady  Davenants  to  be 
found  in  this  country.'21  Lady  Davenant  has  the  inde- 
scribable, faint  grace  of  personality  which  Cumberland 
attains  in  a  few  feminine  characters,  and  she  has,  in  addi- 
tion, force,  making  her  a  vital  figure  in  the  drama. 

While  the  excellence  of  a  few  characters  makes  The 
Mysterious  Husband  worth  the  reading  today,  it  has  also 
its  place  in  dramatic  history.  The  student  of  drama  will 
find  the  play  an  outgrowth  of  the  tendency  to  write  plays 
of  natural  English  life.  The  Mysterious  Husband  is 
akin  to  the  plays  of  George  Lillo,  and  has  its  lineage  in 
those  of  Thomas  Heywood.  Professor  Thorndyke  con- 
siders it  an  excellent  specimen  of  'domestic  tragedy.'21 

This  play  contained  in  its  prologue  two  lines  which 
Genest  declares  have  reference  to  the  ancient  quarrel  with 
Sheridan: 

19  The  British  Magazine,  February,  1783. 

20  The  Universal  Magazine,  February,  1783. 

21  Tragedy,  319. 


ig6  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Now  parody  has  vented  all  its  spite, 
Let  tragedy  resume  her  ancient  right. 

Whether  or  not  Sir  Fretful's  hurt  was  yet  healed,  we 
cannot  know,  but  there  are  rumours  of  the  continued 
malice  of  Sheridan,  though  this  is  less  active  and  less 
bitter.  Richardson,  the  author  of  The  Fugitive,  tells  a 
story  that  in  its  day  had  great  vogue :  'Mr.  Cumberland 
came  one  night  to  Mr.  Sheridan's  box  in  the  theatre 
somewhat  late,  and  stumbled  at  the  entrance.  Mr. 
Sheridan  sprang  forward  and  assisted  him.  uAh!  Sir," 
said  Cumberland,  "you  are  the  only  man  to  assist  a 
falling  author."  Mr.  Sheridan,  in  waggery  or  forget- 
fulness,  said,  "Rising,  you  mean,"  the  very  words  which 
Mr.  Sheridan  has  assigned  to  Sir  Fretful  Plagiary  in 
"The  Critic."  '22 

Perhaps  of  all  Cumberland's  tormentors  Horace  Wai- 
pole  relaxed  least.  He  had  had  his  sneer  at  The  Mys- 
terious Husband,  and  the  years  immediately  following  are 
filled  with  his  derisive  laughter.  The  dislike  was  cordial 
on  both  sides,  and,  in  his  perpetual  irritation  at  the  eccen- 
tric dramatist,  Walpole  seems  to  have  had  somewhat  the 
worst  of  the  affair.  Nobody  could  accuse  Cumber- 
land of  playing  the  hypocrite  with  those  whom  he  dis- 
liked. He  doubtless  avoided  Walpole  as  he  did  Fanny 
Burney.  Either  Walpole's  friend,  Cole,  or  himself,  had 
suffered  at  the  hands  of  Cumberland,  for  Walpole  writes 
Cole:  'Mr.  Cumberland's  brusquerie.is  not  worth  notice, 

22  Cumberland  was  still  famed  as  a  plagiarist.  A  writer  to  The 
Gentleman's  Magazine  for  July,  1783,  in  commenting  upon  the  dulness  of 
the  news,  suggests  a  number  of  'secrets,'  all  to  be  delivered  in  'whispers.' 
Among  the  bits  of  gossip  occurs  the  following:  'I  heard  Mr.  Cumberland 
whisper  Mr.  Andrews  between  you  and  I — there  is  a  deal  of  damned  stuff 
and  plagiarism  brought  upon  the  stage.'  See  Taylor,  Records  of  My 
Life,  2.163-4. 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  197 

nor  did  I  remember  it.'23  The  letters  to  the  Countess  of 
Ossory  have  a  good  share  of  Walpole's  ridicule  of  Cum- 
berland. The  gift  of  a  laurel  crown  from  Lady  Ossory 
again  brought  Cumberland  to  Walpole's  mind.  'I  give,' 
he  writes,  'your  ladyship  a  thousand  thanks  for  the  crown 
of  laurel  you  sent  me:  I  tried  it  on  immediately;  but  it 
certainly  was  never  made  for  me;  it  was  a  vast  deal 
too  big,  and  did  not  fit  me  at  all.  ...  I  will  not  be  such  a 
bear  as  to  send  back  your  ladyship's  favour;  but  if  you 
would  give  me  leave  to  present  it  to  poor  Mr.  Hayley,  or 
Mr.  Cumberland,  who  ruin  themselves  in  new  laurels 
every  day,  it  would  make  them  as  happy  as  princes;  and 
I  dare  answer  that  either  of  them  would  write  an  ode 
upon  you,  not  quite  so  good  perhaps,  yet  within  a  hundred 
thousand  degrees  as  excellent  as  Major  Scott's24  and  at 
least  better  than  Mr.  Warton's.'25' 26 

In  1783  Mason  had  attempted  a  literary  coalition  with 
Dr.  Johnson,  his  object  being  the  administration  of  the 
Blue  Stocking  Club  without  the  direction  of  Mrs.  Mon- 
tagu. But  he  writes  Walpole :  'Cumberland  will  not  come 
into  our  plan  unless  I  give  him  my  word  and  honour  that 
I  will  write  prologues  to  all  the  plays  he  has  now  on  the 
stocks,  or  shall  have  on  the  stocks.  Hard  terms  as  these 
are,  I  believe  I  shall  have  public  spirit  enough  to  accede 
to  them.'27  This  last  may  be  jest,  but  the  incident  shows 
that  Cumberland's  literary  influence  was  not  negligible. 

Cumberland's  attitude  towards  Walpole  was  one  of 
consistent  dislike,  untempered,  as  far  as  we  know,  by 

23  Letters  of  Horace  Walpole,  Toynbee  ed.,  12.269. 

24  Major  John  Scott,  agent  for  Warren  Hastings.      During  the  latter's 
trial  he  produced  numerous  useless  letters,  speeches,  and  pamphlets. 

25  Joseph  Warton  published  Odes  in  1744  and  1746. 

26  Letters  of  Horace  Walpole,  Toynbee  ed.,  13.271. 

27  Correspondence    of    Horace    Walpole    and    the    Reverend    William 
Mason,  Mitford  ed.,  2.332-3. 


RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 


flattery.  He  considered  that  his  uncle  Bentley's  'con- 
nexion with  Mr.  Horace  Walpole,  the  late  Lord  Orford, 
had  too  much  of  the  bitter  of  dependance  in  it  to  be  grati- 
fying to  the  taste  of  a  man  of  his  spirit  and  sensibility; 
the  one,'  he  says,  'could  not  be  abject,  and  the  other,  I 
suspect,  was  not  by  nature  very  liberal  and  large-minded/ 
Cumberland  excuses  Walpole's  'querulential'  nature  on 
the  score  of  gout,  but  declares  him  an  author  'who  seemed 
to  play  at  hide-and-seek  with  the  public.' 

Cumberland's  social  set  included,  of  course,  Mrs. 
Montagu.  It  is  unlikely  that  the  Blue  Stockings  would 
make  the  dramatist  'eternally  of  them.  The  Memoirs 
tells  at  length  of  a  dinner  at  Mrs.  Montagu's;  there  are, 
however,  no  other  mentions  of  her.  In  an  essay,  later 
included  in  Cumberland's  paper,  The  Observer,  occurs  his 
his  opinion  of  Lady  Mary.  Here,  under  a  thin  veil  of 
fictitious  names,  the  writer  satirizes  well-known  figures  of 
the  age.  Vanessa  can  be  no  other  than  Mrs.  Montagu. 
'The  celebrated  Vanessa  has  been  either  a  beauty  or  a 
wit  all  her  life  long;  and  of  course  has  a  better  plea  for 
vanity  than  falls  to  most  women's  share.  .  .  .  Vanessa 
in  the  centre  of  her  own  circle  sits  like  the  statue  of  the 
Athenian  Minerva,  incensed  with  the  breath  of  philoso- 
phers, poets,  painters,  orators,  and  every  votarist  of  art, 
science,  or  fine  speaking.  It  is  in  her  academy,  young 
noviciates  try  their  wit  and  practise  panegyric;  no  one 
like  Vanessa  can  break  in  a  young  lady  to  the  poetics,  and 
teach  her  Pegasus  to  carry  a  side-saddle.'28  It  is  not  too 
much  to  believe  that  the  socially  ambitious  Cumberland 
was  jealous  of  Mrs.  Montagu's  following.  The  obvious 
ill  temper  of  the  passage  angered  Fanny  Burney,  who 
says  in  her  Diary:  'How  infinitely  severe  a  criticism  is 

28  The  Observer,  No.  17. 


AT  TUN  BRIDGE  WELLS  199 

this  Vanessa  upon  Mrs.  Montagu!  Do  you  remember 
hearing  Mr.  Cambridge  read  it  at  Twickenham?  I  think 
it  a  very  injurious  attack  in  Mr.  Cumberland;  for  what- 
ever may  be  Mrs.  Montagu's  foibles,  she  is  free,  I 
believe,  from  all  vice,  and  as  a  member  of  society  is  mag- 
nificently useful.  This,  and  much  more  to  the  purpose,  I 
instantly  said  to  her  Majesty,  defending  her,  as  well  as 
I  was  able,  from  this  illiberal  assault.  The  Queen  was 
very  ready  to  hear  me,  and  to  concur  in  thinking  such 
usage  very  cruel.'29 

So  many  are  the  petty  quarrels  in  Cumberland's  life 
that  we  turn  again  with  relief  to  a  friendship  at  once 
genuine  and  lasting.  His  devotion  to  George  Romney 
had  persisted,  and  had  now  developed  into  intimacy.  It 
is  certain  that  Cumberland  was  in  the  habit  of  naming 
subjects  for  the  painter;  these  the  latter  accepted,  and  we 
find  him  listening  to  his  friend's  criticisms  with  respectful 
attention.  Cumberland  on  one  occasion  saved  Romney's 
life  by  prompt  attention  during  a  serious  illness.  Romney, 
on  his  part,  relieved  the  dramatist's  distressful  condition, 
after  his  return  from  Spain,  by  a  timely  loan.  There  sur- 
vive letters  from  Cumberland  to  Romney,  written  while 
the  artist  was  in  Italy,  all  of  which  manifest  the 
warmest  friendliness.  As  he  had  not  hesitated  to  dis- 
praise Mrs.  Montagu  and  others  in  The  Observer,  he 
was  not  slow  to  eulogize  his  friend.  Under  Greek  names 
he  discusses  the  great  painters.  Reynolds  is  drawn  as 
Parrhasius;  West  as  Apelles;  and  Romney  as  Timanthes. 
'This  modest  painter,  though  residing  in  the  capital  of 
Attica,  lived  in  such  retirement  from  society  that  even 
his  person  was  scarce  known  to  his  competitors.  Envy 
never  drew  a  word  from  his  lips  to  the  disparagement  of 

29  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  3.71-2. 


200  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

a  contemporary,  and  emulation  could  hardly  provoke  his 
diffidence  into  a  contest  for  fame  which  so  many  bolder 
rivals  were  prepared  to  dispute.'30 

Romney  died  in  1802.  The  task  of  writing  his  life 
was  Hayley's,  but  before  this  work  appeared,  Cumber- 
land published  in  The  European  Magazine  for  June, 
1803,  a  short  essay  upon  him.  An  insinuation  against 
Hayley  himself,  in  addition  to  certain  temperate  criticisms 
of  Romney  by  Cumberland,  provoked  the  biographer, 
and  explain  the  many  allusions  to  Cumberland  in  Hayley's 
Life  of  George  Romney.^ 

The  success  of  The  Observer,  and  the  fame  of  The 
Mysterious  Husband  and  The  Carmelite  attest  the  wide 
scope  of  his  literary  activities,  and  his  position  as  a  man 
of  letters. 

30  The  Observer,  No.  99. 

31  See  Hayley,  Life  of  George  Romney,  8,  Mudford,  Life  of  Richard 
Cumberland,  462,  and  Chamberlain,  George  Romney. 


CHAPTER  XII 

AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  (Continued).—  THE 
CARMELITE.—  THE  OBSERVER 


rTIHE  success  of  The  Mysterious  Husband  again  led 
Cumberland  into  the  paths  of  tragedy,  paths 
always  fraught  with  danger  for  the  writer  of  sentimental 
comedy.  On  December  2,  1784,  The  Carmelite  was 
acted  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre.  The  plot  deserves  notice 
as  typical  of  Cumberland's  sentimental  tragedy  style. 

St.  Valori,  disguised  as  a  Carmelite,  is  wrecked 
upon  a  desolate  coast,  and  finds  his  wife,  Matilda, 
mourning  him  in  loneliness  and  despair.  He  observes 
secretly  her  intimacy  with  Montgomeri,  unaware  that 
the  youth  is  really  their  son.  Hildebrand,  who  has  been 
the  Carmelite's  comrade  in  many  perils,  but  who  does 
not  know  the  latter's  real  name,  is  tortured  by  repent- 
ance for  having  long  ago  killed,  as  he  thinks,  St.  Valori. 
He  confesses  to  St.  Valori  and  dies  forgiven.  In  a  'shrine 
decorated  with  funeral  trophies,'1  St.  Valori,  removing 
his  cowl,  reveals  himself  to  Matilda.  Husband,  wife, 
and  son  are  reunited  and  we  have  'a  tragedy  that  termi- 
nates merrily/2 

The  Carmelite  enjoyed  a  success  far  disproportionate 
to  its  merit.  This  was  attained  in  a  large  measure  by 
skilful  use  of  scenic  devices.  'The  managers/  says 
The  Lady's  Magazine,  'brought  forth  this  Tragedy  with 

1  The  Carmelite,  5.1. 

2  Doran,  Annals  of  the  Stage,  2.145. 


202  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

great  splendor.  The  scenes  are  admirably  painted  and 
do  credit  ...  to  the  actors  particularly  the  illuminated 
scene  of  the  Chapel.'  To  The  English  Review,  also,  The 
Carmelite  'seems  much  better  calculated  for  theatrical 
representation  than  the  closet.  Stage  effect  appears 
everywhere  to  be  studied  with  much  care  and  considerable 
success.  There  are  situations,  of  which  it  is  impossible, 
that  in  the  hands  of  a  skilful  performer,  they  should  not 
command  the  loudest  bursts  of  applause.  The  interest  is 
regularly  accumulated;  and  the  denouement  is  rapid,  well 
prepared  and  natural.'3 

The  London  Magazine  for  December  praises  the  pos- 
sibilities for  acting  in  The  Carmelite:  'The  situations  are 
productive  of  the  highest  dramatic  effect,  and  are  beau- 
tiful throughout.  Under  this  description  may  be  con- 
sidered the  Carmelite's  first  interview  with  the  lady;  the 
revealing  of  Montgomery's  birth;  the  discovery  Hilde- 
brand  makes  of  his  being  the  murderer  of  Lord  St. 
Valori ;  the  comfort  Hildebrand  receives,  in  finding  St. 
Valori  still  lives;  and  many  others  equally  productive  of 
effect.' 

Unusual  praise  for  The  Carmelite  occurs  in  The 
London  Chronicle  of  December  3 :  'Few  plays,'  this 
paper  says,  'were  ever  perhaps  better  received  through- 
out, and  scarcely  any  which  ended  amidst  such  thundering 
peals  of  applause.'  Miss  Seward,  a  regular  theatre-goer 
of  the  time,  writes:  'Cumberland's  "Carmelite,"  written 
for  Mrs.  Siddons,  and  supported  by  her  through  many 
nights  with  eclat,  pleases  me  exceedingly.  It  is  not  with- 
out faults,  but  the  beauties  greatly  overbalance.'4 

3  The  English  Review,  January,  1785.     The  resemblance  of  The  Car- 
melite to  Home's  Douglas  was  widely  observed. 

4  Journals  and  Correspondence  of  Thomas  Sedgewick  Whalley,  1.418. 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  203 

On  account  of  the  prominence  of  Mrs.  Siddons5  as 
Matilda,  the  characters  of  The  Carmelite  themselves 
receive  little  attention.  The  critic  of  The  European 
Magazine  for  December  condemns  Hildebrand,  played 
by  Palmer,6  denouncing  his  'remorses'  as  'feeble  and 
uncharacteristic.'  His  indecision  and  dawdling  repent- 
ance mark  him  as  the  villain  of  sentimental  comedy,  and 
he  differs  from  Penruddock,  Lord  Sensitive,  and  Belfield 
Senior  only  in  his  costume  of  the  armoured  knight. 

The  interest  in  The  Carmelite  lies,  first  and  last,  in 
the  acting  of  Mrs.  Siddons  in  the  part  of  Matilda.  On 
March  15,  1785,  the  actress  wrote  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Whal- 
ley :  'I  am  now  going  to  act  in  "The  Carmelite,"  a  tragedy 
of  Cumberland's.'7  A  simple  prelude  to  an  evening  of 
triumph!  'The  performance  of  Mrs.  Siddons,'  says 
The  London  Magazine,  'was  above  panegyric;  the  tears 
which  fell  at  her  call  are  the  noblest  tributes  of  praise.'8 
In  'dress  .  .  .  well  calculated  to  express  dignity  and 
sorrow,'  'the  inimitable  Siddons'0  ruled  her  audience.  'In 
many  parts,'  says  The  Lady's  Magazine,  'of  Mrs.  Sid- 

5  Mrs.  Siddons  was,  at  this  time,  at  the  very  height  of  her  career.    'She 
was  probably,'  says  Joseph  Knight,  'the  greatest  actress  this  country  has 
known.'      Cumberland    admired    Mrs.    Siddons    intensely.      This    play    is 
dedicated  to  her,  she  is  praised  in  The  Observer  [No.  17],  and  Rogers 
relates    Cumberland's    tribute    to    her.      See    The   London    Chronicle    of 
October   11,    1782,   for   an   account   of   her   powers   of   acting,   and,    also, 
Campbell,  Life  of  Mrs.  Siddons,  1.290. 

6  John  Palmer  was  one  of  the  most  popular  and  versatile   actors  of 
Drury  Lane.     Genest  credits  him  with  acting  over  three  hundred  parts. 

7  Journals  and  Correspondence  of  Thomas  Sedgewick  Whalley,  1.430. 

8  The  London  Magazine,  December,  1784. 

9  The  phrase,  'the  inimitable  Siddons,'  has  been  much  quoted  as  Cum- 
berland's.     Cumberland    actually   says:    'She   played   inimitably,    and    in 
those  days,  when  only  men  and  women  trode  the  stage,  the  public  were 
contented  with  what  was  perfect  in  nature,  and  of  course  admired  and 
applauded  Mrs.  Siddons.'    See  Memoirs,  2.219.    For  Cumberland's  picture 
of  her  in  society  see  The  Observer,  No.  17. 


204  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

dons'  very  powerful  passion,  the  house  was  dissolved 
with  her  sorrows/10  By  the  very  greatness  of  the  actress 
it  was  felt  that  the  value  of  the  role  was  less  dramatic 
than  theatrical.  So  The  Lady's  Magazine  says  that :  'It 
seemed  to  be  the  prevalent  idea,  that  the  poet  had  too 
often  sacrificed  to  the  lady  the  probabilities  which  are 
essential  to  illusion.  To  exhibit  the  varieties  of  her  tal- 
ent, he  has  introduced  too  many  fits  of  madness  and 
fainting,  and  too  much  of  the  jeu  de  theatre  which  diffuses 
modern  tragedy.' 

The  Carmelite  is  by  far  the  best  of  Cumberland's 
tragedies  in  verse,  yet,  after  all,  it  is  a  bad  tragedy.  No 
blindness  can  condone  its  tottering  structure,  its  wooden 
plot,  or  doleful  sentimentalism.  Notwithstanding,  it  has 
stateliness  of  language,  and,  above  all,  a  curious  quality 
of  cathedral-like  dimness  and  gloom.  The  entire  play 
is  so  overcast  with  strange  monastic  lights  and  shadows, 
that  the  effect  is  that  of  a  weird  Gothic  drama.  The 
Carmelite  is  the  comedy  of  Cumberland  in  darkness,  or 
sentimental  drama  in  a  minor  key. 

A  scant  three  weeks  later,  on  December  22,  The 
Natural  Son,  a  sentimental  comedy  by  Cumberland,  was 
acted  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre.  The  play  tells  in  divert- 
ing fashion  of  the  adventures  of  Blushenly,  an  attractive 
young  renegade  without  name  or  fortune,  and  strongly 
reminiscent  of  Tom  Jones.  The  Natural  Son  was  much 
condemned  by  the  critics  for  the  slenderness  of  its  plot, 
and  it  was  ultimately  compressed  into  four  acts.  'It  has 
of  late,'  says  The  Universal  Magazine  for  December, 
'been  remarkably  the  lot  of  the  theatres  to  produce  plays 
which  begin  well,  and  sink  both  in  interest  and  effect  as 
they  proceed.  The  Natural  Son  is  a  piece  which  comes 

10  The  Lady's  Magazine,  December,  1784. 


AT  TUN  BRIDGE  WELLS  205 

within  this  description.  The  first  and  second  acts  are 
good  ones,  and  though  there  are  many  happy  incidents, 
excellent  sentiments,  and  pointed  witticisms  and  remarks 
in  the  third,  fourth,  and  fifth,  yet  considered  as  acts,  they 
are  by  no  means  equal  to  those  that  precede  them.  It 
were  to  be  wished  that  Mr.  Cumberland  had  compressed 
his  plot,  and  written  the  comedy  in  three  acts  only;  all 
would  then  have  been  alive  and  interesting/  The  char- 
acters are  not  without  interest,  for  among  them  rings 
again  the  jovial  laughter  of  Major  O'Flaherty.  His 
genial  wit,  however,  has  suffered  a  change  since  we  saw 
him  last  with  Belcour,  and  the  sympathetic  reader  notes 
that  his  fortunes  have  not  risen.  'Major  O'Flaherty/ 
says  the  reviewer  of  The  Westminster  Magazine,  'throws 
sad  disgrace  on  young  Dudley,'  for  the  votaries  of  the 
earlier  play  knew  the  promise  that  'Dudley  made  at  the 
conclusion  of  the  West  Indian,'  and  now  the  Major  is 
'totally  unprovided  for.'11  Cumberland's  reversion  to 
novelists  and  to  his  own  earlier  plays  indicates  far  from 
a  wealth  of  invention. 

Yet  The  Natural  Son  is  one  of  the  most  entertaining 
of  his  comedies.  The  easy  dialogue  often  rises  into  wit, 
and  the  'just  sentiment  strongly  expressed,'12  as  Bio- 
graphia  Dramatica  has  it,  is  tinged  with  'genuine  humour.' 
Thus,  while  its  rambling  structure  denied  it  success  on 
the  stage,  its  dialogue  and  its  story,  though  'not  so  finely 
and  naturally  blended  as  that  of  Fielding's  wonderful 
Foundling,'13  assure  its  power  'in  the  closet.'  'It  is,' 

11  The  'promise'  made  Major  O'Flaherty  occurs  in  the  last  act  of  The 
West   Indian.      Dudley   to   O'Flaherty:    'We   have    stood    many    a    tough 
gale,  and  abundance  of  hard  blows,  but  Charles  shall   lay  us  up   in  a 
little  private,  but  safe,  harbour,  where  we'll  rest  from  our  labours,  and 
peacefully  wind  up  the  remainder  of  our  days.' 

12  Biographia  Dramatica,  4.74. 

13  The  London  Magazine,  December,  1784. 


206  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

says  Dunham,  'a  miniature  novel,  its  best  scenes  possess- 
ing the  peculiar  kind  of  interest  which  is  independent  of 
the  aid  of  acting.'14  Soon  after  was  acted,  on  March  8, 
1785,  at  Covent  Garden,  The  Arab,  with  Henderson  and 
Mrs.  Pope.  The  play  was  not  acted  twice. 

We  have  seen  that  after  the  return  from  Spain  Cum- 
berland's mode  of  life  had  greatly  altered.  At  Tun- 
bridge  Wells  there  was  no  affluence ;  there  was,  however, 
ease  and  quiet,  and  in  the  calm  of  these  years  we  seem 
to  find  again  the  student  of  the  Cambridge  days.  But  a 
mind  so  naturally  creative  as  Cumberland's  could  not  rest 
in  literary  inaction.  In  this  time  when  poverty  and  dis- 
appointment must  have  been  often  in  his  thoughts,  the 
deep  seriousness  of  his  nature  is  apparent.  'My  mind,' 
he  admits,  'had  been  harassed  in  a  variety  of  ways,  but 
the  spirit,  that  from  resources  within  itself  can  find  a 
never-failing  fund  of  occupation,  will  not  be  easily  broken 
by  events,  that  do  not  touch  the  conscience.'  Thus  the 
ceaseless  play-writing  may  be  traced  in  some  measure  to 
weariness  of  spirit,  and  our  wonder  at  Cumberland's 
promiscuous  creation  of  poem,  novel,  and  essay  may 
soften  into  some  pity  for  a  disappointed  man.  We  cannot 
regret  the  essays.  Shortly  after  his  establishment  at 
Tunbridge  Wells  he  had  begun  the  series  of  papers  which 
were  to  be  known  to  the  world  as  The  Observer;  these 
were  an  expression  of  long  study  and  thought  which  could 
find  an  outlet  through  no  other  channel.  'I  took,'  he 
says,  'a  larger  and  more  various  range  of  study  than  I 
had  ever  done  before,  and  collaterally  with  other  com- 
positions began  to  collect  materials  for  those  essays, 
which  I  afterwards  compleated  and  made  public  under 
the  title  of  The  Observer.'  It  was  a  fortunate  experiment 

14  Eminent  Literary  and  Scientific  Men  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland, 
3.361. 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  207 

for  Cumberland.  The  Observer  is  neglected;  but  those 
who  like  to  reblaze  old  literary  trails  will  find  it  interest- 
ing. The  lover  of  old  books  will  wish  that  Cumberland 
had  written  more  essays. 

Though  published  in  large  groups,  in  quarto  form, 
The  Observer  was  modelled  upon  the  popular  periodical 
essay  of  the  early  part  of  the  century.  Cumberland 
explains:  'My  first  wish  was  to  have  followed  the  steps 
of  those  essayists,  who  have  so  successfully  set  the  fashion 
of  publishing  their  lucubrations  from  day  to  day  in  sepa- 
rate papers.  This  mode  of  marching  into  the  world  by 
detachments  has  been  happily  taken  up  by  men  of  great 
generalship  in  literature,  of  whom  some  are  yet  among 
us.'16 

The  essays  may  be  divided  into  three  general  classes. 
In  the  first  division  fall  all  papers  pertaining  to  the 
observation  of  human  life.  Here  are  the  diminuitive 
novels,  such  as  the  Story  of  Melissa™  or  Nicolas  Ped- 
rosa,17  and  here  the  essays  with  various  comments  on 
men  and  manners,  such  as  the  essay  on  Dampers,19  or  the 
one  on  The  Love  of  Praise.19  Forming  a  second  group 
are  the  essays  upon  literary  subjects,  such  as  the  Review 
of  the  Samson  Agonistes^  and,  more  particularly,  the 
scholarly  and  learned  essays  concerning  Greece  and  her 
literature.  A  third  division  may  be  made  of  the  philo- 
sophical, moral,  and  religious  essays.  Examples  of  these 
are:  Notion  that  Death  may  be  Avoided  at  Will?*  On 

15  The  Observer,  No.  1. 
19  I  bid.,  No.  23. 

17  Ibid.,  Nos.  88,  89,  90.     Cumberland  denies  that  he  took  this  essay 
from  a  Spanish  source, 
is  Ibid.,  No.  2. 
19  Ibid.,  No.  3. 
2°  Ibid.,  No.  76. 
21  Ibid.,  No.  59. 


208  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Gaming™  Defence  of  Christ's  Miracles  Against  Modern 
Cavils.  .  .  . 23  The  line  of  demarcation  between  these 
divisions  is  often  indistinct.  There  is  in  all  the  papers 
a  constant  intrusion  of  Cumberland's  knowledge  of  the 
ancients,  and  a  deep  undercurrent  of  moral  sentiment. 
Thus  the  Dangers  of  Sudden  Elevation™  are  illustrated 
by  the  letters  of  Pisistratus,  and  the  story  of  Leontine 
ends  in  a  moral  disquisition  on  duelling.25 

The  miscellaneous  essays  upon  life  make  together  one- 
half  the  bulk  of  The  Observer.  These  essays  have  mild 
interest  today,  but  concern  us  primarily  as  they  reveal 
Cumberland's  personality.  In  the  essay  on  Dampers  are 
suggestions  of  the  man.  Here  Cumberland  unloads  the 
irritation  of  his  sensitive  nature  towards  uncongenial 
spirits. 

Dampers  are  to  be  known  in  society  by  a  sudden  damp,  which 
they  are  sure  to  cast  upon  all  companies,  where  they  enter.  More- 
over, if  one  of  the  company  risques  a  sally  for  the  sake  of  good- 
fellowship,  which  is  a  little  on  the  wrong  side  of  truth,  or  not 
strictly  reducible  to  proof,  a  Damper  may  with  great  propriety  set 
him  right  in  the  matter  of  fact,  and  demonstrate,  as  clear  as  two 
and  two  make  four,  that  what  he  has  said  may  be  mathematically 
confuted,  and  that  the  merry  gentleman  is  mistaken.  A  Damper 
is  to  keep  strict  watch  over  the  morals  of  the  company,  and  not  to 
suffer  the  least  indiscretion  to  escape  in  the  warmth  of  conviviality. 
...  If  any  glance  is  made  at  private  characters,  however  notori- 
ous, a  Damper  steps  in  with  a  recommendation  of  candour,  and 
inveighs  most  pathetically  against  the  sin  of  evil-speaking.  He  is 
never  merry  in  company,  except  when  any  one  in  it  is  apparently 
out  of  spirits,  and  with  such  an  one  he  is  always  exceedingly 
pleasant. 

22  The  Observer,  No.  22. 

23  I  bid.,  No.  11. 

24  ibid.,  No.  12. 
25 1 bid.,  No.  18. 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  209 

It  is  in  discussing,  with  an  angry  comment  from  Pliny, 
the  effect  of  Dampers  on  sensitive  men  that  the  real 
Cumberland,  perhaps,  speaks  out:  'I  think  it  is  a  remark 
with  as  few  exceptions  to  it  as  most  general  remarks 
have,  that  brilliant  talents  are  attended  with  extreme 
sensibility,  and  the  effects  of  sensibility  bear  such  resem- 
blance to  the  effects  of  vanity,  that  the  undiscerning  mul- 
titude are  too  apt  to  confound  them.  These  are  the  men, 
who,  in  their  progress  through  life,  are  most  frequently 
misunderstood,  and  generally  less  pitied  than  they  ought 
to  be.'26  In  another  essay  Cumberland  discusses  sensi- 
bility with  insight:  'There  is  a  certain  delicacy  in  some 
men's  nature,  which  though  not  absolutely  to  be  termed 
a  moral  attribute,  is  nevertheless  so  grateful  to  society 
at  large,  and  so  recommendatory  of  those  who  possess 
it,  that  even  the  best  and  worthiest  characters  cannot  be 
truly  pleasing  without  it :  I  know  not  how  to  describe  it 
better  than  by  saying  it  consists  of  a  happy  discernment 
of  "times  and  seasons."  '" 

Besides  references  to  Dampers,  throughout  The 
Observer,  there  are  many  paragraphs  on  envy,  dissimu- 
lation, and  jealousy.  Cumberland's  dispraise  of  Puffing 
culminates  in  an  account  of  the  practice  in  the  theatres: 
'I  cannot  dismiss  the  subject  without  hinting  to  the  pro- 
prietors of  our  Royal  Theatres,  that  this  expedient  of 
puffing  is  pardonable  only  in  a  troup  of  strollers,  or  the 
master  of  a  puppet-shew.  Whilst  the  muses  keep  pos- 
session of  our  theatres,  and  genius  treads  the  stage,  every 
friend  to  the  national  drama  will  condemn  the  practice, 
and  hold  them  inexcusable,  who  are  responsible  for  it,  if 
they  do  not  discontinue  it.  ...  I  have  no  doubt  but  the 

26  The  Observer,  No.  2. 
No.  55. 


210  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

good  sense  of  the  proprietors  will  determine  on  a  reform; 
for  I  am  persuaded  they  cannot  be  profited  by  houses  of 
their  own  filling,  nor  any  author  flattered  by  applauses  of 
his  own  bestowing.'28  Similarly,  he  condemns  Ventidius, 
'the  modestest  of  all  men;  he  blushes  when  he  sees  him- 
self applauded  in  the  public  papers;  he  has  a  better 
reason  for  blushing  than  the  world  is  aware  of;  he  knows 
himself  to  be  the  author  of  what  he  reads.'29  In  another 
number  of  The  Observer  is  described  at  length  a  libeller's 
melancholy  remorse,  as  displayed  in  a  letter  to  the  editor. 
This  gentleman,  whom  Cumberland  christens  Walter 
Wormwood,  pictures,  after  his  failure  as  an  author,  his 
own  gradual  disintegration  of  character.  'Disgusted 
with  the  world,  I  now  began  to  dip  my  pen  in  gall,  and  as 
soon  as  I  had  singled  out  a  proper  object  for  my  spleen, 
I  looked  round  him  for  his  weak  side,  where  I  could 
place  a  blow  to  best  effect,  and  wound  him  undiscovered: 
the  author  above  mentioned  had  a  full  share  of  my  atten- 
tion; he  was  an  irritable  man,  and  I  have  seen  him  ago- 
nized with  the  pain,  which  my  very  shafts  had  given  him. 
.  .  . '  Wormwood  now  tells  of  his  shame  in  his  base 
occupation:  'The  solitude  I  resorted  to,  made  me  every 
day  more  morose,  and  supplied  me  with  reflections  that 
rendered  me  intolerable  to  myself,  and  unfit  for  society.' 
The  libeller  is  at  length  exposed  and  thus  laments  his 
fate:  'Alas!  can  words  express  my  feelings?  Is  there  a 
being  more  wretched  than  myself?  to  be  friendless,  an 
exile  from  society,  and  at  enmity  with  myself,  is  a  situa- 
tion deplorable  in  the  extreme:  let  what  I  have  now 
written  be  made  public;  if  I  could  believe  my  shame  could 
be  turned  to  others'  profit,  it  might  perhaps  become  less 

28  The  Observer,  No.  20. 

29  Ibid.,  No.  30. 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  211 

painful  to  myself.'30  Cumberland  concludes  the  essay 
with  his  verses  on  Envy. 

Such  expressions  from  'the  man  without  a  skin'  prove 
only  too  conclusively  how  long  the  stings  of  the  critics 
kept  him  uncomfortable.  The  ludicrous  picture  of 
Wormwood,  the  repentant  critic,  indicates  Cumberland's 
moral  and  sentimental  attitude  towards  his  defamers,  and 
also  the  lasting  pain  which  he  suffered  at  their  hands. 

Cumberland's  attack  upon  critics  in  The  Observer 
brought  forth  one  of  his  best  essays,  namely,  an  imagined 
criticism  of  the  first  night  of  Othello.  Although  the  idea 
is  an  absurd  one,  that  adverse  criticism  is  likely  to  be  in 
proportion  to  a  play's  merit,  and  that  the  great  writers 
of  the  past  would  suffer  equally  with  the  moderns  from 
the  malicious  press,  yet  the  essay  itself  is  striking,  and 
may  be  the  first  of  its  kind.31 

Anything  which  Cumberland  has  to  say  in  regard  to 
the  stage  warrants  consideration.  In  spite  of  her  enmity 
toward  him,  Fanny  Burney  wished  him  to  stage  her  play.82 
Rogers  speaks  of  him  as  a  good  judge  of  acting,33  and  it 
was  Cumberland  who  found  Henderson,  perhaps  the 
second  actor  of  the  age.34 

'There  is  ample  evidence,'  Boaden  says,  'in  his  Ob- 
server, that  Mr.  Cumberland  was  one  of  the  ablest 
dramatic  critics  of  our  country.  He  analyses  a  comedy, 
ancient  or  modern,  with  the  happiest  skill  and  feels 
every  resource  of  interest  developed  in  the  progress  of 
the  fable.'35  On  the  other  hand,  The  British  Review  for 

30  The  Observer,  No.  94. 

31  See  The  Observer,  No.  50. 

32  Compare  pages  1,  129,  251-2. 

33  See  pages  283-4. 

34  See  pages  107-9. 

35  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  John  Philip  Kemble,  132-3. 


2i2_ RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

October,  1817,  remarks:  'It  is  easy  to  see  that  Cumber- 
land knew  nothing  of  Shakspeare.  In  the  lack  of 
analytical  criticism  he  flies  to  declamation  and  metaphor.* 
Cumberland's  zeal  for  learning  extends  to  the  point  of 
wishing  that  actors  might  possess  a  classical  education. 
He  declares  that  the  actor  should  live  and  have  his  being 
in  Shakespeare.  Cumberland's  conception  of  an  actor's 
mental  attitude  is  an  elaboration  of  his  old  theme.  Actors, 
he  says,  should  steel  themselves  against  praise  or  blame. 
'That  proper  sense  of  himself,  which  holds  a  middle 
place  between  diffidence  and  arrogance,  is  what  he  must 
oppose  to  these  attacks  of  extravagant  applause  or  illib- 
eral defamation.'36  All  that  Cumberland  says  of  the 
calumny  against  this  profession  he  clearly  thinks  appli- 
cable to  his  own:  'It  is  an  act  of  aggravated  cruelty  to 
attack  a  man,  whose  profession  lays  him  so  continually 
at  mercy,  and  who  has  fewer  defences  than  other  men 
to  resort  to.  An  actor  has  a  claim  upon  the  public  for 
their  protection,  whose  servant  he  is;  and  he  ought  to 
be  dear  to  every  man  in  particular,  whose  heart  he  has 
dilated  with  benevolence,  or  lightened  with  festivity.'36 
Cumberland  has  followed  the  device  of  his  model, 
Addison,  in  carrying  a  story  through  several  essays.  The 
first  of  these  narratives  is  concerned  with  a  curious  attack 
upon  pedantry  in  woman, — an  attack  which  seems  diffi- 
cult to  understand  in  view  of  the  fact  that  Cumberland's 
mother  was  Joanna  Bentley.  The  Observer  visits  Lady 
Thimble,  'one  of  those  female  pedants,  who  with  quick 
animal  spirits,  a  pert  imagination,  great  self-conceit,  and 
a  homely  person,  sets  herself  up  for  a  woman  of  tal- 
ents.'37 After- being  brought  into  a  freezing  room  con- 
taining little  but  a  bust  of  Apollo,  he  is  forced  to  listen 

se  The  Observer,  No.  29. 
37  Ibid.,  No.  4. 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  213 

to  the  reading  of  an  epic  poem  written  by  a  boarding- 
school  girl  of  seventeen.  The  Observer  saw  in  this 
pretty  girl,  named  Calliope,  one  whom  'nature  meant 
.  .  .  to  be  most  amiable  and  modest,  if  flattery  and  false 
education  would  have  suffered  her  good  designs  to  have 
taken  place.'38  Finally,  the  kindly  Observer  rescues  Cal- 
liope from  the  sea  of  infidelity  into  which  her  youthful 
mind  has  plunged  her,  and  soon  afterwards  learns  her 
unhappy  story.  For  Calliope's  lover  has  been  estranged 
by  her  very  excess  of  learning.  The  effect  upon  Calliope 
of  the  news  of  her  lover's  return  and  the  unhappy  sequel 
she  thus  describes  to  the  Observer:  'The  joy  this  letter 
gave  me  set  my  spirits  in  such  a  flow,  that  in  the  habit 
I  was  of  writing  verses,  I  could  not  bring  my  thoughts 
to  run  in  humble  prose,  but  giving  the  reins  to  my  fancy 
filled  at  least  six  sides  with  rhapsodies  in  verse :  and  not 
content  with  this  ...  I  enclosed  a  fair  copy  and  sent  it 
to  him  in  a  packet  by  the  stage  coach.'  Henry  Constant's 
surprising  reply  was,  in  part:  'Though  there  cannot  be 
in  this  world  a  task  so  painful  to  me,  as  what  I  am  now 
about  to  perform,  yet  I  think  it  an  indispensible  [sic] 
point  of  honour  to  inform  my  late  most  lovely  and  be- 
loved Nancy,  that  if  I  am  to  suppose  her  the  author  of 
that  enormous  bundle  of  verses  I  have  received  from  her 
hand,  it  is  the  last  favour  that  hand  must  bestow  upon 
her  unhappy  Henry.'8*  We  may  believe  Cumberland's 
attitude  to  have  been  not  unlike  that  of  Henry's:  'For 
God's  sake,'  writes  he,  'what  have  women  to  do  with 
learning?'40  In  the  next  paper  Calliope  and  Henry  are 
united  in  a  flood  of  sentiment,  but  the  evil  results  of 
educating  women  too  highly  were  shown,  the  Observer 

38  The  Observer,  No.  5. 
3»  Ibid.,  No.  6. 
*°  Ibid.,  No.  6. 


214  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

seems  to  think,  by  an  incident  after  the  marriage.  Cal- 
liope writes  her  new  friend:  'I  had  almost  forgot  to 
mention  to  you  a  circumstance,  that  passed  as  we  were 
sitting  at  table  after  dinner,  and  by  which  our  good  friend 
the  Vicar  undesignedly  threw  me  into  a  confusion  that 
was  exceedingly  distressing,  by  repeating  some  verses 
from  Pope's  Essay  on  Man,  in  which  he  applied  to  me 
to  help  him  out  in  his  quotation :  I  certainly  remembered 
the  passage,  and  could  have  supplied  his  memory  with 
the  words;  but  Henry  being  present,  and  the  recollection 
of  what  had  passed  on  the  subject  of  poetry  rushing  on 
my  mind,  at  the  same  time  that  I  thought  I  saw  him 
glance  a  significant  look  at  me,  threw  me  into  such  embar- 
rassment on  the  sudden,  that  in  vain  endeavoring  to  evade 
the  subject,  and  being  pressed  a  little  unreasonably  by 
the  Vicar,  ...  I  could  no  longer  command  myself,  but 
burst  into  tears.  .  .  . '41 

In  the  Tragic  story  of  a  Portuguese  gentleman,  who 
died  by  the  rack  is  to  be  seen  the  author's  taste  for  the 
melodramatic  which  found  expression  in  such  plays  as  The 
Carmelite.  Cumberland's  sentimental  prose  style  is  at 
its  height  in  the  papers  on  Melissa*2  It  is  the  style  of 
his  novels  in  parvo:  'As  he  was  uttering  these  words/ 
so  runs  the  denouement  of  the  tale,  'he  threw  himself  on 
his  knees,  snatched  the  hand  of  Melissa,  pressed  it  eagerly 
to  his  lips,  and  smothered  it  with  ardent  kisses;  then 
applying  his  handkerchief  to  his  eyes,  dropped  his  head 
upon  Melissa's  knee,  and  in  a  trembling  voice  cried  out — 
uSpeak,  loveliest  of  thy  sex,  pronounce  my  fate,  determine 
me  for  life  or  death;  for,  by  the  power  that  made  me,  I 
will  not  survive  the  sentence  of  despair."  '43 

4i  The  Observer,  No.  7. 
**lbid.,  Nos.  23,  24. 
43 Ibid.,  No.  24. 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  215 

Cumberland's  benevolent,  or,  from  the  modern  point 
of  view,  sentimental  regard  for  the  Jews  is  made  apparent 
in  nine  papers  of  The  Observer.  After  a  general  discus- 
sion of  inhumanity  towards  the  Jews,  a  letter  is  printed 
from  Abraham  Abrahams,  doubtless  the  prototype  of 
Sheva.  'I  observe  with  much  concern,'  says  this  imagi- 
nary person,  'that  your  great  writers  of  plays  take  delight 
in  hanging  us  up  to  public  ridicule  and  contempt  on  all 
occasions :  if  ever  they  are  in  search  of  a  rogue,  an  usurer, 
or  a  buffoon,  they  are  sure  to  make  a  Jew  serve  the  turn: 
I  verily  believe  the  odious  character  of  Shylock  has 
brought  little  less  persecution  upon  us  poor  scattered  sons 
of  Abraham,  than  the  Inquisition  itself.'44  Another  paper 
determines  the  relation  of  Shylock  to  Nashe's  Unfortu- 
nate Traveller.  In  the  next  seven  papers,  under  the  his- 
tory of  Ned  Drowsy,  is  a  further  account  of  Abrahams 
and  his  benefactions.  Throughout  these  essays  are 
touches  characteristic  of  Cumberland.  Ned  is  the  typical 
good-humoured  hero  of  sentimental  comedy.  He  is  one 
whose  father  'had  too  tender  a  concern  for  his  health  and 
morals  to  admit  him  of  a  public  school,  and  the  same 
objections  held  against  an  university.'45  In  addition,  he 
has  all  the  sentiment  needful  for  a  lover  of  Constantia. 
The  story  of  the  couple  united  by  a  benevolent  patron 
has  the  distinguishing  mark  of  sentimental  comedy. 

In  our  second  division  of  The  Observer  papers,  we  have 
Cumberland  in  the  role  of  critic.  He  discusses  Clarissa, 
whose  moral  tone  he  ardently  commends.46  When  not 
led  astray  by  personal  feeling  or  lack  of  perspective,  as 
in  the  cases  of  Gray  and  Goldsmith,  Cumberland  is  a 

«  The  Observer,  No.  38. 
45  Ibid.,  No.  40. 
"Ibid.,  No.  27. 


216  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

suggestive  critic.  His  critical  faculties  are,  however, 
attracted  almost  exclusively  by  classic  productions,  or 
plays  modelled  upon  the  classics.  The  papers  on  Shake- 
speare with  the  comparisons  of  Macbeth  and  Richard 
and  of  Shakespeare  himself  with  Aeschylus  are  effective 
bits  of  popularized  scholarship.  In  regard  to  the  two 
English  tragedies,  Cumberland  says :  'It  is  manifest  there- 
fore that  there  is  an  essential  difference  in  the  develop- 
ment of  these  characters,  and  that  in  favour  of  Macbeth: 
In  his  soul  cruelty  seems  to  dawn,  it  breaks  out  with  faint 
glimmerings,  like  a  winter-morning:  In  Richard  it  flames 
forth  at  once,  mounting  like  the  sun  between  the  tropics, 
and  enters  boldly  on  its  career  without  a  herald.'47  Fal- 
staff  he  calls  a  'character,  which  neither  ancient  nor 
modern  comedy  has  ever  equalled,  which  was  so  much 
the  favorite  of  its  author  as  to  be  introduced  in  three 
several  plays,  and  which  is  likely  to  be  the  idol  of  the 
English  stage,  as  long  as  it  shall  speak  the  language  of 
Shakespeare.'48  It  was  natural  for  Cumberland  to  dis- 
cover Ben  Jonson's  indebtedness  to  Philostratus,49  and  to 
praise  his  speed  in  the  composition  of  The  Fox  about 
which  he  is  enthusiastic  as  a  'work,  that  bears  the  stamp 
of  elaborate  design,  a  strong  and  frequently  a  sublime 
vein  of  poetry,  much  sterling  wit,  comic  humour,  happy 
character,  moral  satire,  and  unrivalled  erudition.  .  .  .  '50 
Samson  Agonistes  Cumberland  thought  'as  compleat  an 
imitation  of  the  antient  tragedy,  as  the  distance  of  times 
and  the  differences  of  languages  will  admit  of,'51  and 
considered  that  Samson  himself  possessed  'all  the 

47  The  Observer,  No.  69. 

48  Ibid.,  No.  73.  - 

49  Ibid.,  No.  74. 
s°  Ibid.,  No.  75. 
51  Ibid.,  No.  76. 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  217 

terrific  majesty  of  Prometheus  chained,  the  mysterious 
distress  of  Oedipus,  and  the  pitiable  wretchedness  of 
Philoctetes.'52 

Cumberland  had  had  his  first  great  dramatic  experi- 
ence in  seeing  Quin,  Gibber,  and  Garrick  in  Rowe's  Fair 
Penitent.  Perhaps  his  best  piece  of  criticism  is  the  com- 
parison of  this  play  with  The  Fatal  Dowry  of  Massinger 
and  Field,  an  essay  written  some  forty  years  after  the 
boyhood  experience,  and  included  in  The  Observer.™  A 
detailed  comparison  leaves  the  verdict  with  the  Eliza- 
bethan play.  John  Taylor  says:  'His  observations  on 
"The  Fatal  Dowry"  of  Massinger,  compared  with  "The 
Fair  Penitent"  of  Rowe,  which  my  friend  Gifford  has 
introduced  in  his  admirable  edition  of  Massinger's  Plays, 
are  ingenious  and  profound;  but  it  is  by  no  means  improb- 
able, that  if  Rowe  had  been  as  distant  from  him  in  point 
of  time,  and  Massinger  as  near  to  his  period  as  Rowe, 
he  would  have  found  good  reasons  for  preferring  uThe 
Fair  Penitent,"  and  his  arguments  have  been  as  strong  in 
favour  of  the  latter/54 

The  thirty  essays  upon  Greek  literature  are,  perhaps, 
the  most  enduring  part  of  The  Observer.  Here  is  the 
material  supplied  by  Bentley,  and  Cumberland's  handling 
of  it  has  produced  a  unified  and  scholarly  treatise.  'That 
series  of  papers,'  Cumberland  says,  'will  I  hope  remain 
as  a  monument  of  my  industry  in  collecting  materials, 
and  of  my  correctness  in  disposing  them.'  Cumberland's 
wish  has  been,  in  a  measure,  granted.  In  the  second 
edition  of  The  Observer,  printed  in  1798,  was  included 

82  The  Observer,  No.  76. 

83  Ibid.,    No.    77.      Cumberland    exposes    Rowe's    pilferings    from    the 
Elizabethan  play.    See  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  July,  1817. 

54  Records  of  My  Life,  2.161. 


218  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

a  translation  of  The  Clouds  of  Aristophanes.  The 
translation  of  the  comic  dramatists  appeared  in  Wai- 
pole's  Comicorum  Graecorum  Fragmenta,  1805,  and  in 
Bailey's  edition  of  this  work  in  1840. 

The  third  division  of  essays  upon  morals,  philosophy, 
and  religion  reveals  Cumberland's  personality  in  a  famil- 
iar light.  To  attack  gaming,  the  essayist  gives  up  an 
entire  paper,  although  he  says :  'What  avails  my  hurling 
a  feeble  essay  at  the  heads  of  this  hydra,  when  the 
immortal  drama  of  The  Gamester  lies  trodden  under  his 
feet?'  After  a  long  analysis  of  the  evil  Cumberland 
concludes:  'My  proper  concern  in  this  short  essay  is  to 
shew,  that  gaming  is  the  chief  obstructing  cause,  that 
affects  the  state  of  society  in  this  nation,  and  I  am  sen- 
sible I  need  not  have  employed  so  many  words  to  con- 
vince my  reader  that  gamesters  are  very  dull  and  very 
dangerous  companions.  When  block-heads  rattle  the 
dice-box,  when  fellows  of  vulgar  and  base  minds  set  up 
whole  nights  contemplating  the  turn  of  a  card,  their 
stupid  occupation  is  in  character;  but  whenever  a  culti- 
vated understanding  stoops  to  the  tyranny  of  so  vile  a 
passion,  the  friend  to  mankind  sees  the  injury  to  society 
with  that  sort  of  aggravation,  as  would  attend  the  taking 
of  his  purse  on  the  highway,  if,  upon  seizure  of  the 
felon,  he  was  unexpectedly  to  discover  the  person  of  a 
judge.'55 

Duelling  is  also  strongly  censured.  After  the  story 
of  the  mortification  of  the  braggart,  Leontine,  the 
Observer  meditates  sadly  upon  the  vice:  'I  would 
seriously  recommend  to  my  readers  of  all  descriptions, 
to  keep  a  careful  watch  upon  their  tempers  when  they 

55  The  Observer,  No.  22. 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  219 

enter  into  argumentation  and  dispute.'56  The  absurd 
seriousness  of  Cumberland's  attitude  is  clear  from  his 
appending  to  his  advice  fourteen  rules  to  be  observed 
by  potential  duellists.  Some  of  these  are : 

Every  man  who  gives  a  controverted  opinion,  ought  to  lay  it 
down  with  as  much  conciseness,  temper,  and  precision,  as  he 
can.  .  .  . 

No  two  disputants  should  speak  at  the  same  time,  nor  any  man 
overpower  another  by  superiority  of  lungs,  or  loudness  of  a  laugh, 
or  the  sudden  burst  of  an  exclamation. 

If  any  disputant  slaps  his  hand  upon  the  table,  let  him  be  in- 
formed that  such  an  action  does  not  clinch  his  argument,  and  is 
only  pardonable  in  a  blacksmith  or  a  butcher.56 

The  religious  papers  in  The  Observer  have  to  do 
largely  with  a  defence  of  the  Christian  faith,  with  par- 
ticular reference  to  the  heathen  philosophies  and  mod- 
ern scepticism.  Later  essays  treat  of  the  miracles  and 
other  aspects  of  religion. 

Notice  of  the  publication  of  The  Observer  may  be 
found  in  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  May,  1785. 
In  the  same  magazine  for  November,  1785,  appeared 
a  review  of  the  paper  with  long  excerpts:  'Till  the  pub- 
lication of  the  work  now  before  us,  the  town  has  not 
been  gratified  with  any  production  of  this  sort  since  the 
appearance  of  the  witty  and  agreeable  "Connoisseur." 
.  .  .  To  him  who  devotes  his  learning  and  abilities  to 
promote  virtue,  to  strengthen  fidelity,  and  to  repress 
licentiousness,  the  gratitude  of  mankind  is  eminently  due. 
Such  is  the  object  of  the  Observer.  .  .  .  As  it  was 
remarked  of  the  Spectator,  that  uhe  brought  philosophy 
from  the  dark  retreats  of  science  into  the  verge  of 
society,"  so  to  have  allured  learning  from  the  college 

56  The  Observer,  No.  18. 


220  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

and  the  cloister  to  the  habitations  of  common  life,  is  the 
praise  of  the  Observer.  .    .    . ' 

The  Monthly  Review  for  May,  1791,  says  of  a  later 
volume:  'It  would  be  sufficient  to  say  that  the  fifth  vol- 
ume of  the  Observer  is  like  those  which  preceded  it; 
frequently  instructive,  though  never  very  deep;  always 
easy,  though  not  always  accurate;  constantly  endeav- 
ouring, with  the  best  intentions  and  the  best  humour, 
to  promote  happiness;  and  generally  endeavoring  with 
success.'  This  paper  disapproves  of  the  essays  on 
the  Greek  Comic  Poets:  4To  general  readers,  these 
last  essays  form  the  least  entertaining  part  of  the 
volume;  and  to  others,  who,  from  their  acquirements 
in  literature,  may  be  supposed  to  relish  them,  they  may 
appear  to  be  misplaced.  To  open  the  hidden  stores  of 
Grecian  poetry  to  the  inspection  of  the  unlearned,  may 
be  pleasing  and  even  useful:  but  to  pass  judgment  on  the 
merits  of  ancient  writers,  from  the  translation  of  a  few 
mutilated  fragments,  is  neither  judicious  nor  beneficial/ 
The  highest  praise  came  from  Nathan  Drake,  who  de- 
clared that  The  Observer,  'though  the  sole  labour  of  an 
individual,  is  yet  rich  in  variety,  both  of  subject  and 
manner;  in  this  respect,  indeed,  as  well  as  in  literary 
interests,  and  in  fertility  of  invention,  it  may  be  classed 
with  the  "Spectator"  and  "Adventurer";  if  inferior  to 
the  latter  in  grandeur  of  fiction,  or  to  the  former  in  deli- 
cate irony  and  dramatic  unity  of  design,  it  is  wealthier  in 
its  literary  fund  than  either,  equally  moral  in  its  views, 
and  as  abundant  in  the  creation  of  incident.  I  consider 
it,  therefore,  with  the  exception  of  the  papers  just  men- 
tioned, as  superior,  in  its  powers  of  attraction,  to  every 
other  periodical  composition.'57 

57  Drake,  Essays,  Illustrative  of  the  Rambler,  Adventurer,  and  Tatler, 
2.393-4.     See  also  Correspondence  of  William  Cowper,  Wright  ed.,  3.336. 


AT  TUN  BRIDGE  WELLS  221 

On  the  other  hand,  Fanny  Burney,  who  was  exceed- 
ingly angry  at  Cumberland  for  his  satire  upon  Mrs. 
Montagu  in  the  essay  entitled  The  Feast  of  Reason, 
found  in  The  Observer  little  to  admire :  'I  am  heartily 
averse,'  she  says,  unforgetful,  perhaps,  of  the  Evelina 
incident,  'to  any  work  of  any  species,  that  contains  such 
hard  personalities;  and  I  think  the  Observer,  besides 
little  more  than  a  compilation  from  some  classic  scholar's 
commonplace  book:  for  all  that  is  not  personal  is  criticism 
on  Greek  authors  and  customs.'55 

At  the  completion  of  the  series,  the  entire  collection 
of  essays,  embodying  the  Comic  Fragments,  was  printed 
in  a  five-volume  edition.  In  1798  Cumberland  added 
his  translation  of  The  Clouds,  and  issued  a  new  edition 
in  six  volumes  which  was  added  to  The  British  Essayists. 
'I  consider,'  Cumberland  says,  'the  Observer  as  fairly 
enrolled  amongst  the  standard  classics  of  our  native 
language.'  The  Observer  contains  some  of  Cumber- 
land's best  non-dramatic  work,  and  was  perhaps  his  most 
successful  attempt  outside  the  field  of  sentimental 
comedy. 

Had  you  lived  in  London  in  1785  you  would  have 
eaten,  perhaps  more  than  once,  if  you  had  been  an  intel- 
lectual bon  vivant,  at  the  table  of  Mr.  Samuel  Dilly. 
This  gentleman,  to  quote  Cumberland,  'kept  a  table  ever 
open  to  the  patrons  and  pursuers  of  literature,  which 
was  so  administered  as  to  draw  the  best  circles  to- 
gether, and  put  them  most  completely  at  their  ease. 
.  .  .  Under  this  roof  the  biographer  of  Johnson 
.  .  .  passed  many  jovial  joyous  hours;  here  he  has 
located  some  of  the  liveliest  scenes  and  most  brilliant 

58  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  3.71-2.  Austin 
Dobson  says:  'Sir  Fretful  would  have  winced  at  this.'  Ibid.,  3.72,  foot- 
note 1. 


222  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

passages  in  his  entertaining  anecdotes  of  his  friend 
Samuel  Johnson,  who  yet  lives  and  speaks  in  him.'  Here 
on  an  evening  of  this  year  you  might  have  found  Cum- 
berland in  earnest  conversation  with  Samuel  Parr,  peda- 
gogue and  distinguished  scholar.  The  colloquy  was 
characteristic  on  both  sides;  the  two  parted  as  enemies. 
Parr  later  sent  word  to  Cumberland  that  he  was  con- 
vinced that  'his  ignorance  was  only  excelled  by  his  impu- 
dence, and  his  impudence  was  only  excelled  by  his 
malice.'59  The  basis  of  Cumberland's  grievance  may  be 
found  in  his  declaration  that  Parr  had  attacked  a  friend. 
He  'conceived  that  Doctor  Parr  had  hit  an  unoffending 
gentleman  too  hard,  by  launching  a  huge  fragment  of 
Greek  at  his  defenceless  head.'60  Cumberland's  views 
were  finally  presented  in  an  anonymous  tract,  published 
in  1783,  called  Cur  tins  Rescued  from  the  Gulph.  Mud- 
ford,  the  biographer  of  Cumberland,  says  that  Parr 
deigned  no  response.  Not  long  after  this  encounter, 
Cumberland's  love  of  debate,  long  nourished  in  univer- 
sity classrooms,  found  expression  in  an  assault  on  the 
Bishop  of  Llandaff,  who  had  sought  to  equalize  the  reve- 
nues of  the  hierarchy  and  dignitaries  of  the  church.  The 
argument  was  declined  by  the  churchman,  and  Cumber- 

59  See  Barker,  Literary  Anecdotes,  1.63. 

60  Mudford   declares   that   Cumberland   heartily   enjoyed   controversy. 
His  first  bout  had  been  with  Bishop  Lowth.     In  1765  Lowth  and  War- 
burton  had  engaged  each  other  till,  as  Cumberland  said,  'their  very  hands 
blushed  and  their  lawn  sleeves  were  bloody.'    One  of  Lowth's  pamphlets 
had  a  sneer  at  Bentley,  who  was  styled  aut  caprimulgus  aut  fossor.    Upon 
his  uncle's  refusal  to  break  a  lance,  Cumberland  entered  the  lists,  armed 
with   a   monstrously  titled   pamphlet   to  which   was    affixed   the    legend: 
Jam  parce  Sepulto.    The  Bishop,  however,  did  not  deign  a  reply,  and  the 
pamphlet's  only  result — a   rather  ludicrous  one — was  the  bestowal  of  a 
gift  and  letter  of  gratitude  upon  Cumberland's  uncle,  who  was  deemed 
the  author.     See   The  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  April,   1806,  and   The 
Edinburgh  Review  for  June,  1818. 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  223 

land  believed  himself  to  have  come  off  the  better.  But 
The  Gentleman's  Magazine  refers  to  a  'letter  from 
Richard  Cumberland,  Esq.  containing  some  wit,  but  not 
much  argument  or  candour;  and  which  was  ably  answered 
by  another  ingenious  writer.'  Alas  for  dialectic!  Bad 
plays  were  better  than  ventures  of  this  kind. 

In  1787  the  dramatist  had  offered  a  new  play,  The 
Country  Attorney,  to  George  Colman.  While  Colman 
had  promised  blithely  to  produce  the  play,  he  doubtless 
had  misgivings;  he  had  laughed  more  than  once  with 
Garrick  over  Cumberland's  idiosyncrasies.  In  particular, 
he  detested  the  sentimental  tone  into  which  the  dramatist 
was  likely  to  lapse.  'Whatever  favours  are  bestowed 
upon  it,'  Cumberland  wrote  Colman  in  regard  to  the 
play,  'must  be  derived  from  your  friendly  attention  and 
judicious  support  of  it.'61  This  phrasing  does  very  well, 
but,  when  Cumberland  goes  on,  we  can  imagine  Colman's 
shaking  his  head  and  thinking  he  would  show  this  letter 
to  Garrick:  'As  for  your  part,  my  dear  Sir,'  writes  the 
dramatist,  'from  beginning  to  end,  it  has  been  such  as 
leaves  the  most  kindly  impressions  on  my  heart  towards 
you.  I  wish  the  production  had  been  more  deserving 
of  you,  but  the  zeal  of  its  author  will,  in  your  estimation, 
make  up  all  deficiencies  in  the  work  itself.' 

In  rehearsing  The  Country  Attorney,  difficulties  arose. 
Miss  Farren,  Cumberland's  favourite  actress,  would 
have  none  of  her  part.  'Miss  Farren,'  Cumberland 
wrote  his  manager  petulantly,  'is  a  spoiled  child,  and  has 
done  us  more  mischief  by  her  hesitation  than  she  could 
have  done  by  a  more  peremptory  refusal.'62  Mrs. 

61  Peake,  Memoirs  of  the  Colman  Family,  2.209. 

QZIbid.,  2.206.  This  letter  is  quoted  as  a  memorial  of  Cumberland's 
character.  See  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  February,  1834. 


224  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Brooks63  was  established  in  the  role,  but  Colman  still 
thought  that  Miss  Farren  might  be  recaptured,  if  a  trump 
card  were  played,  and  Cumberland,  accordingly,  wrote, 
with  effective  tact,  a  letter  which  placated  the  coquettish 
actress.  'I  am  convinced,'  he  wrote  his  idol,  'that  it  is 
not  in  my  power  either  to  write  the  role  up  or  to  write  it 
down;  that  having  tried  hard  for  the  former  attempt  in 
the  character  of  Lady  Paragon,  I  now  put  your  excellence 
to  proof,  by  desiring  you  to  convince  the  town  that  Lady 
Rustic  cannot  diminish  your  reputation  with  the  public, 
and  will  greatly  add  to  your  private  merits  by  protecting 
the  weak  and  feeble,  who  cannot  stand  without  your  sup- 
port.' The  success  of  the  actress  in  The  Natural  Son 
had  brought  Cumberland  to  her  feet;  yet  he  was  not 
prepared  to  write  a  letter  of  this  sort  without  demanding 
from  Colman  a  compensation.  'For  heaven's  sake,'  he 
says,  'write  her  an  Epilogue.' 

The  Country  Attorney  was  acted  at  The  Haymarket 
Theatre  on  July  7,  1787;  it  barely  deserved  its  run  of 
a  half-dozen  nights. 

Boaden  gives  a  faint  idea  of  the  plot  of  The  Country 
Attorney.  It  is  based  upon  the  'stale  incident  of  intro- 
ducing the  unknown  wife  of  a  son  to  his  father,  to  cap- 
tivate him  with  her  accomplishments,  and  producing  a 
reconciliation,  by  showing  the  old  gentleman,  that  his 
boy  had  done  the  very  thing  which  alone  could  satisfy  the 
father.'64 

The  General  Magazine  for  July,  however,  contains  a 
kindly  account  of  Cumberland's  moral  attitude  in  The 
Country  Attorney.  'In  most  of  his  comic  productions/ 
the  reviewer  says,  'it  has  been  the  laudable  aim  of  this 

63  Mrs.  Brooks  first  appeared  at  the  Haymarket  in  1786  as  Lady 
Townley  in  The  Provoked  Husband. 

«*  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  John  Philip  Kemble,  209. 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  225 

author  to  discountenance  and  to  explode,  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, some  popular  and  vulgar  prejudice,  and  to  shew 
the  illiberality  and  absurdity  of  national  reflections  and 
general  censure  on  particular  professions.  In  this  com- 
edy Mr.  Cumberland  honours  the  profession  of  the  law 
with  a  defence  and  a  lesson,  by  exhibiting  as  his  prin- 
cipal character,  an  attorney  of  inflexible  integrity,  who, 
by  not  only  refusing  to  make  a  will  in  his  own  favour, 
but  inducing  the  testator  to  bequeath  the  chief  part  of 
his  property  to  a  destitute,  but  worthy  relation,  gives  a 
happy  termination  to  the  plot  ...  It  contains  nothing 
particularly  striking.  .  .  .  The  dialogue  is  such  as  not 
to  disgrace  the  pen  of  Mr.  C.  and  though  it  does  not 
abound  in  wit  or  humour,  and  is,  perhaps,  the  least 
happy  of  his  comic  efforts,  yet  it  is  so  far  respectable  as 
to  do  no  injury  to  a  preestablished  and  eminent  charac- 
ter, and  the  previous  exertions  of  higher  excellence/ 

The  European  Magazine  for  July,  in  noting  the 
failure  of  the  play,  says:  'It  had  no  novelty,  and  but  little 
to  commend  either  in  character,  humour,  or  wit;  though 
it  possessed  some  merit  in  the  easy,  and  in  a  few  places 
appropriate  dialogue.  It  was  represented  with  great 
excellence  by  the  actors  but  was  so  coldly  received  by  the 
audience  as  to  be  laid  aside  after  four  performances.  A 
Prologue  by  the  author  was  spoken  by  Mr.  Bensley,65 
and  an  Epilogue  by  Mr.  Colman,  by  Miss  Farren.' 

Not  less  surprising  than  the  number  of  Cumberland's 
plays  is  his  zeal  for  all  other  forms  of  literature.  Per- 

65  Robert  Bensley's  first  appearance  on  a  London  stage  was  at  Drury 
Lane  Theatre  on  October  2,  1765,  as  Pierre  in  Venice  Preserved.  Bensley 
was  at  Covent  Garden  from  1767  to  1775,  and  from  1775  to  1796  he  alter- 
nated between  Drury  Lane  and  the  Haymarket.  Charles  Lamb  says  of 
him  that  of  all  actors  'Bensley  had  most  of  the  swell  of  soul.  ...  He 
had  the  true  poetical  enthusiasm,  the  rarest  faculty  among  players.' 


226  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

haps  the  most  audacious  attempt  of  these  years  was  that 
of  novel-writing.  The  plays  of  twenty  years  attest  by 
allusion  and  even  by  discussion  his  deep  interest  in  the 
masterpieces  of  eighteenth  century  novelists.  During  a 
summer  at  Brighthelmstone  in  1788  he  hastily  threw 
together  the  novel  of  Arundel.  The  work  was  quickly 
cast  aside,  and  made  no  impression  on  a  world  surfeited 
with  moral  imitations  of  Richardson  and  Fielding.  Arun- 
del has,  nevertheless,  interest  for  the  light  which  it  throws 
upon  the  new  novelist. 

Francis  Arundel,  a  young  scholar,  enters  the  household 
of  the  Earl  of  G.  as  his  private  secretary.  Unhappy 
family  relations  between  the  Earl  and  the  Countess  make 
Arundel  the  object  of  the  Countess's  affections,  and  he  is 
also  beloved  by  her  daughter,  Lady  Louisa.  Other  per- 
sonages are  Sir  George  Revel,  a  dissipated  suitor  of  Lady 
Louisa,  Sir  Joseph  Arundel,  an  unnatural  father,  a  benev- 
olent uncle,  Admiral  John  Arundel,  and  the  respective 
correspondents  of  Arundel  and  Louisa,  namely,  Charles 
Mortlake  and  the  Lady  Jane  S.  The  plot's  mid-point 
is  a  duel  between  Arundel  and  Revel.  Normal  readjust- 
ments take  place  by  the  means  best  known  to  sentimental 
comedy.  The  Earl  and  the  Countess  are  reunited,  Revel 
is  checkmated,  and  two  pairs  of  lovers  join  hands. 

The  story  is  told,  to  the  utter  exclusion  of  real  action, 
in  a  long  succession  of  letters,  and  the  tone  and  language 
of  the  novel  are  sentimental  beyond  pardon.  Scott's 
words  are  the  most  charitable :  'The  style  .  .  .  was  easy 
and  clear,  and  the  characters  boldly  and  firmly  sketched.' 
The  novel  has  one  other  virtue :  'It  shews,'  says  Scott,  'at 
the  first  glance  what  is  seldom  to  be  found  in  novels,  the 
certainty  that  the  author  had  been  well  acquainted  with 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS 


schools,  with  courts,  and  with  fashionable  life,  and  knew 
the  topics  on  which  he  was  employing  his  pen.'66 

The  situation  of  Arundel  in  the  family  of  his  patron 
is  too  like  Cumberland's  with  Lord  Halifax  not  to  be 
autobiographical.  Arundel  writes  Mortlake  :  'The  scene 
I  am  now  entering  upon  strikes  my  senses  with  its  novelty, 
but  it  does  not  satisfy  my  mind.  .  .  .  How  it  may  be, 
when  I  am  more  familiarized  to  the  modes  and  manners 
of  the  great  world,  I  cannot  pretend  to  say.  .  .  .  My 
slender  stock  of  acquirements  has  been  purely  of  the 
literary  sort;  and  having  known  no  other  training  than  in 
the  fellowship  of  the  muses,  inter  Sylvas  academi,  I 
shall  be  an  awkward  novice  in  the  circle  of  the  courtly 
graces.'67  Otherwise,  the  story  has  little  reference  to 
Cumberland's  life,  unless  the  Earl  of  G.  be  meant  for 
Lord  Halifax,  in  which  case  the  character  is  considerably 
darkened. 

Duelling,  censured  already  in  play  and  essay,  does  not 
escape  in  the  novel.  Mortlake's  letters  to  Arundel,  re- 
specting the  approaching  duel  with  Sir  George  Revel,  are, 
in  reality,  sermons:  'I  know  you  too  well,'  he  writes,  'to 
believe  he  has  any  interest  to  divert  your  mind  from  the 
most  rigid  adherence  to  those  sanguinary  laws,  which 
honor,  (that  Moloch  of  the  world's  idolatry,)  has  im- 
posed upon  its  votaries.  ...  I  have  hitherto  supposed 
that  the  laws  of  our  country  gave  us  redress  against 
assaults;  but  when  men  of  principle,  lovers  of  justice 
...  do  not  apply  to  these  laws,  how  can  I  suppose  any 
such  are  in  existence?  Duelling  it  seems  then  is  the 
only  bond  of  society,  the  safeguard  of  our  personal  rights, 

66  Novels  of  Swift,  Bage  and  Cumberland,  'Prefatory  Memoir  to  Cum- 
berland,' 54. 

87  Arundel,  Letter  1. 


228  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

our  sole  preservation  against  violence;  strange  paradox 
this/ 

The  reader  has  seen  that  Cumberland's  ambition  had 
attempted  poetry.  The  playwright,  essayist,  and  novelist 
longed  to  be  known  as  a  poet.  Yet  it  is  to  be  feared  that 
he  never  advanced  beyond  the  mere  maker  of  rhymes. 
Besides  the  long  epic  poem  which  was  to  appear  in  a  few 
years,  and  the  early  attempt  at  blank  verse,  the  elegiac 
Verses  on  the  death  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  the  verse 
translation  of  the  Georgics,  the  Elegy  on  St.  Mark's  Eve, 
and  the  Lines  on  the  Discovery  of  India  were  all  experi- 
mental and  youthful  poetry.  In  addition  there  are  acces- 
sible in  the  Memoirs  fragmentary  poetic  effusions  such  as 
the  dedication  to  Romney,  the  lines  to  Lord  Mansfield, 
and  to  Richard  Sharpe.  There  are,  likewise,  the  verses 
to  the  Storm,  and  the  verse  translation  of  the  Bible.  Cum- 
berland prints  in  the  Memoirs  a  series  of  'fugitive  poems' 
with  the  following  titles:  Wit,  Affectation,  Vanity, 
Avarice,  Prudery,  Envy,  Pride,  and  Humility. 

Very  few  of  these  poems  were  published,  nor  was  any 
attempt  made  to  collect  them  all.  The  lines  On  the 
Marriage  of  Miss  Sackville  to  Mr.  Herbert  appeared  in 
The  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  May,  1782,  and  the 
verses  on  Envy  were  printed  in  the  same  magazine  for 
August,  1791. 

We  must  finish  the  few  remaining  years  of  this  period 
of  Cumberland's  life  with  a  chronicle  of  still  more  un- 
successful plays,  bearing  witness  not  only  to  failing  powers 
but  to  an  industry  untempered  by  judgment  or  restraint. 
Another  West  Indian  the  public  would  have  welcomed, 
but  Cumberland  had  none  to  give.  His  energies  were 
spent  in  revisions,  operas,  and  occasional  pieces.  The 
troubled  ghost  of  The  Country  Attorney  was  not  suffered 


AT  TUNBRIDGE  WELLS  229 

to  rest,  but  appeared  two  years  later,  on  May  8, 
1789,  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  as  The  School  for 
Widows.  The  play  was  acted  only  three  times,  but 
pleased  the  sentimental  clientele.  A  poem  which  it 
inspired  found  its  way  into  one  or  two  of  the  dramatic 
memoirs  of  the  time.  Some  of  the  more  normal  lines 
ran: 

This  drama  was  by  Cumberland  design'd 
To  form  the  manners,  and  improve  the  mind  ; 
His  muse  her  characters  from  nature  draws, 
Writes  to  the  heart,  and  seeks  from  that  applause. 

But  the  opinion  of  The  General  Magazine  held 
sway.  'The  productions  of  this  master,  indeed,'  says 
the  reviewer,  'succeed  each  other  so  rapidly  that  it  is 
not  to  be  wondered  at  if  a  muse,  thus  jaded,  should 
become  "dull  and  unpleasing."  The  Impostors,  per- 
formed at  Drury  Lane  on  January  26,  1789,  failed,  but 
was  distinguished  by  a  vivacious  plot.  The  adventures  of 
the  two  free-lances,  Harry  Singleton  and  his  friend,  Poly- 
carp,  recall  Cumberland's  lighter  and  happier  style.  The 
European  Magazine  for  January  expresses  the  feeling 
of  the  reader  of  today  when  it  says  that  the  comedy, 
'like  everything  written  by  Mr.  Cumberland,  is  not 
excellent  in  itself,  but  has  merit  sufficient  to  show  it  to  be 
the  production  of  a  person  who  would  be  able  to  do 
better,  were  he  to  exert  the  full  force  of  his  genius.'  The 
Occasional  Prelude,  which  appeared  at  Covent  Garden  on 
September  17,  1792,  may  be  disregarded,  as  well  as  the 
comic  opera  of  The  Armourer,  produced  on  April  4  of 
the  next  year.  The  latter  was  trimmed  by  the  censor, 
though,  as  Genest  says,  'certainly  no  one  but  a  dog  in 
office  could  suspect  Cumberland  of  writing  anything  with 


230  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

a  bad  political  tendency/68  The  Box  Lobby  Challenge,  a 
comedy  not  without  wit  and  cheerfulness,  was  acted  at 
The  Haymarket  Theatre  on  February  22,  1794.  It 
enjoyed  a  run  of  twelve  nights,  and  may  be  grouped  with 
The  Impostors  as  reminiscent  of  Cumberland's  earlier 
triumphs  in  sentimental  comedy.  These  two  plays  were 
pledges  of  the  return  of  the  old  power. 

68  See  Aicken,  About  the  Theatre,  119. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

RENEWED  SUCCESS.— THE  JEW.— THE 
WHEEL  OF  FORTUNE 

/CUMBERLAND'S  renaissance  of  power  came  in 
^^  two  plays,  The  Jew,  acted  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre 
on  May  8,  1794,  and  The  Wheel  of  Fortune,  which 
appeared  at  the  same  playhouse  on  February  28,  1795. 
The  dramatist's  fame  rose  with  mercurial  speed.  'The 
Jew,'  says  Boaden,  'became  popular  all  over  these 
islands.'1  The  play  was  acted  many  times  in  America; 
the  mighty  actor  Theodore  Doring  made  it  famous  in 
Germany;  and  it  was  imitated  on  the  Parisian  stage. 
Many  dramatic  vicissitudes  had  failed  to  staunch  Cum- 
berland's flow  of  sentimentalism.  The  Jew  dissolved 
its  audiences  in  tears;  it  leaves  its  readers  today  in  won- 
dering amusement. 

Frederick,  son  of  Sir  Stephen  Bertram,  a  worldly- 
minded  merchant,  has  secretly  wedded  Eliza  Ratcliffe. 
This  marriage  antagonizes  Sir  Stephen,  who  objects  to 
the  fortuneless  Eliza;  it  angers  also  the  proud-spirited 
brother,  Charles  Ratcliffe,  who  sees  in  the  union  an  asper- 
sion upon  the  family  honour.  The  overshadowing  theme 
is  the  benevolence  of  Sheva,  the  Jew.  Sheva  bestows  a 
dowry  upon  Eliza,  thus  rendering  her  acceptable  to  Sir 
Stephen,  and  as  Charles  and  Frederick  are  about  to  fight, 
he  separates  and  reconciles  them.  Thus  the  Jew  is,  in 
the  words  of  Charles,  nothing  less  than  'the  widow's 

1  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  John  Philip  Kemble,  329. 


232  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

friend,  the  orphan's  father,  the  poor  man's  protector,  the 
universal  philanthropist.'2 

Cumberland's  moral  attitude  stirred  all  the  critics  to 
approval.  'The  benevolent  design  of  the  author  in  this 
play  appears  to  have  been,'  says  The  Analytical  Review 
for  December,  'to  rescue  an  injured  and  persecuted  race 
of  men  from  the  general  reproach  which  has  fallen  upon 
them,  by  exhibiting  one  of  that  body  as  uniting  with  the 
peculiarities  of  his  sect  eminent  virtues.'  'To  conquer 
the  illiberal  prejudices  of  mankind,'  says  the  May  Uni- 
versal Magazine,  'and  level  the  repulsive  and  unchari- 
table distinctions  of  sect  and  of  country,  have  been 
objects,  which  [Cumberland]  has  nobly  aimed  at,  and 
in  which  we  have  pleasure  in  admitting  he  has  not  been 
without  success.  Of  this  amiable  nature  is  his  motive  in 
making  a  Jew  the  hero  of  a  modern  comedy.' 

The  tender  sensibilities  of  the  eighteenth  century  were 
deeply  moved,  for  the  same  paper  declares  that  a  'rude 
outline  of  the  fable  .  .  .  can  convey  no  idea  of  the  merit 
and  beauties  of  a  drama  in  which  human  nature  is  repre- 
sented in  the  most  amiable  colors,  and  in  which  the  most 
forcible  appeals  are  momentarily  made  to  the  heart. 
Tears  are  involuntarily  forced  in  many  places,  by  the 
finest  touches  of  philanthropy;  while  the  mind  is  very 
artfully  relieved  by  occasional  scenes  of  humour.  .  .  .' 

The  Jew,  like  so  many  of  Cumberland's  plays,  is  a 
single-character  comedy.  Criticism  of  the  play  narrows 
itself  to  criticism  of  the  character  Sheva.  The  benevo- 
lent Jew  was  a  unique  feature  in  dramatic  literature. 
The  Monthly  Review  for  February  describes  clearly  the 
conventional  stage  Jew.  'Whenever,'  it  says,  'the  char- 
acter of  a  Jew  has  been  exhibited  for  the  entertainment 

2  The  Jew,  5.2. 


RENEWED  SUCCESS.— THE  JEW  233 

of  the  public,  it  has  not  been  thought  sufficient  to  expose 
his  national  peculiarities  to  ridicule,  but  he  must  be  also 
holden  up  to  infamy  as  a  bloodthirsty  villain,  a  hard- 
hearted usurer,  or  a  sly  and  pitiful  knave.  The  practise 
has  so  successfully  rooted  illiberal  and  vulgar  antipathy  to 
the  unfortunate  descendants  of  Abraham,  that  few  people 
perhaps  now  hear  a  Jew  mentioned,  without  thinking  of 
the  cruel  Shylock,  or  of  cunning  little  Isaac.'  'Several 
years  ago,'  continues  The  Monthly  Review,  'in  the  6th 
number  of  "The  Observer,"  Mr.  Cumberland  remarked 
the  absurdity  and  inhumanity  of  this  practice,  and,  with 
his  usual  elegance,  illustrated  the  subject  by  introduc- 
ing a  letter  of  complaint  from  a  Jew.  In  the  postscript, 
Ab.  Abrahams  adds,  "I  hope  I  shall  not  give  offense  if 
I  say,  that  if  you  could  persuade  one  of  the  gentlemen  or 
ladies  who  write  plays  to  give  us  poor  Jews  a  kind  lift 
in  a  new  Comedy,  I  am  bold  to  promise  we  should  not 
prove  ungrateful  on  a  third  night."  This  kind  lift  Mr. 
Cumberland  himself  has  given  them.  He  has  written 
a  comedy,  the  principal  design  of  which  is  to  exhibit  on 
the  stage  the  character  of  an  honest  and  charitable  Jew; 
and  the  task  is  executed  with  the  same  soundness  of  judg- 
ment and  elegance  of  taste  which  have  distinguished  Mr. 
C's  former  productions.'  Thus,  4it  was,'  as  the  critic  of 
The  Universal  Magazine  declares,  'reserved  for  the  mild 
and  masterly  pencil  of  Mr.  Cumberland  to  give  him 
[The  Jew]  those  fine  tints  of  nature  which  clothe  him 
in  the  dignity  of  a  man.'3 

The  boldness  of  Cumberland's  venture  must  be  ad- 
mitted. His  conception  was  of  a  Jew  who  is  apparently 
a  usurer  and  a  miser,  of  one  who  'appears  to  be  the 
general  benefactor,  and  has  the  felicity  of  seeing  the 

3  The  Universal  Magazine,  May,  1794. 


234  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

whole  party  made  happy  by  his  bounty.'  Cumberland 
consciously  designed  to  show  'under  the  cloak  of  extreme 
avarice,  Sheva,  a  jew  broker,'  who  'conceals  a  heart  sus- 
ceptible of  the  tenderest  pity,  and  endued  with  the 
warmest  charity.'4 

Admirable  as  may  have  been  Cumberland's  altruism 
in  so  depicting  Sheva,  it  is  difficult  to  comprehend  Boaden 
when  he  says  that  he  is  'at  least  as  natural  a  character 
as  Shylock,'5  or  to  credit  the  magazine  critiques  which 
call  him  a  portrait  from  life.  Cooke,  the  actor,  enjoys 
a  better  perspective:  'Cumberland's  muse,'  he  says  in  his 
Journal,  'is  a  philanthropic  one,  and  painted  men  as  they 
should  be,  rather  than  as  what  they  are.  .  .  .  Sheva  is 
highly  overcoloured.  A  man  of  immense  wealth,  starv- 
ing himself  to  do  good  to  others,  is  improbable.'6  The 
British  Critic,  also,  sees  more  clearly  that  the  character 
is  a  fiction:  'That  a  Jew  should  possess,'  it  says,  'the  feel- 
ings of  a  man  and  the  virtues  of  a  Christian;  that  such 
a  Jew,  if  opulent  and  wealthy,  should  be  secretly  chari- 
table, and  make  an  indigent  Christian  his  heir,  are 
surely  probable  things,  in  defiance  of  vulgar  prejudice; 
but  that  with  qualities  like  these  should  be  connected 
avarice  abroad  and  parsimony  at  home,  usury  in  his 
contracts  and  cruelty  to  his  domestics;  that  his  good 
deeds  should  take  so  perfectly  the  resemblance  of  bad 
ones;  and  that  his  humanity,  alive  to  strangers,  should 
be  dead  to  those  of  his  own  household,  are  circumstances 
which  appear  to  pass  the  line  of  probable  events.  Admit- 
ting them  credible,  they  would  offer  such  an  unnatural 
alliance  of  the  best,  with  the  worst  qualities,  as  would 
effectually  violate  the  properties  of  comedy;  whose 

4  The  Analytical  Review,  December,  1794. 

5  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  John  Philip  Kemble,  328. 

6  Dunlap,  Life  of  George  Frederick  Cooke,  1.366. 


RENEWED  SUCCESS.— THE  JEW  235 

office  is  to  reflect  the  features  of  human  life  in  its  more 
usual  and  general  forms.'7 

To  the  modern  reader  Sheva  can  seem  only  ludicrous. 
A  mixture  of  sentimentality  and  bad  humour,  he  is 
merely  laughable.  Yet  it  must  be  remembered  that 
Sheva  is  an  example  of  Cumberland's  moral  idealism. 
Sheva's  curtain  speech  is  suggestive  of  the  prejudice 
Cumberland  hoped  to  shatter.  Of  his  'mine  of  wealth' 
Sheva  says:  'I  do  not  bury  it  in  a  synagogue,  or  any 
other  pile;  I  do  not  waste  it  upon  vanity,  or  public  works: 
I  leave  it  to  a  charitable  heir,  and  build  ma  [sic']  hospital 
in  the  human  heart!'8 

The  role  of  Sheva  brought  out  the  genius  of  numer- 
ous actors.  John  Bannister  watched  the  part  grow  'act 
by  act.'  'Never,'  says  Adolphus,  his  biographer,  'was 
the  confidence  of  an  author  more  amply  repaid,  or  his 
hopes  more  abundantly  gratified  or  even  exceeded.  In 
every  passage  the  feelings  of  the  audience  were  at  his 
entire  command.  They  tranquilly  approved,  they 
laughed,  they  wept,  they  yielded  to  every  emotion  which 
the  actor  sought  to  impart;  and  their  applause,  like  their 
sensibility  and  their  delight,  was  unbounded.'  Another 
actor  of  Sheva  was  Robert  Elliston,  called  by  Charles 
Lamb  'the  second  tragedian  on  the  stage,'  and  'the  best 
lover  on  the  stage  both  in  tragedy  and  comedy.'9  A  char- 
acteristic anecdote  is  told  of  Cumberland  at  the  time  that 
Elliston  had  the  part  of  Sheva.  'The  Jabel  of  the  night 
entering  the  room,  dressed  for  the  afterpiece  was  by  Mr. 
Cumberland's  desire  presented  to  him.  He  delighted 
the  young  comedian,  by  assuring  him  that  the  part  had 
never  been  better  played;  and  that  in  figure,  dress,  and 

7  The  British  Critic,  July,  1795. 

8  The  lew,  5.2. 

9  Memoirs  of  John  Bannister,  1.338. 


236  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

acting,  he  was  the  very  thing  he  (the  author)  had 
intended.  "I  wrote  the  part,  and  ought  to  know — it 
was  perfect.  I  assure  you,  sir,  I  never  was  more  grati- 
fied; but"  (with  irrepressible  irritation)  "you  spoke  so 
low,  I  couldn't  hear  a  word  you  said."  '10  Sheva  was  also 
acted  by  William  Dowton,  the  versatile  comedian  of 
Drury  Lane,  renowned  for  his  performance  of  Malvolio. 
Other  dramatists  and  Cumberland  himself  watched 
with  interest  the  effect  of  this  play  upon  the  Jews.  It 
is,  however,  almost  certain  that  they  made  no  attempt 
to  express  gratitude  if,  indeed,  they  felt  any  such  emo- 
tion. 'When  Charles  Surface  was  ill  (says  Sheridan) 
the  Jews  put  up  prayers  for  him  in  the  synagogue — and 
some  such  tributary  unexpensive  acknowledgments  might 
now  have  been  made  by  the  Goldsmids  and  the  Solo- 
mons to  Mr.  Cumberland.'11  Certain  magazines  implied 
that  Cumberland  would  not  be  insensible  to  such  praise : 
'The  author  has  made  the  Jew  act  like  a  Christian,  in 
opposition  to  Shakespeare's  Shylock.  Though  the 
author  cannot  claim  the  applause  of  the  critics  for  this 
piece,  he  will  doubtless  have  the  thanks  of  all  the 
Israelites.'12  Cumberland  admits  in  the  Memoirs  that  he 
wished  tokens  of  Jewish  pleasure :  'I  will  speak  plainly 
on  this  point;  I  do  most  heartily  wish  they  had  flattered 
me  with  some  token,  however  small,  of  which  I  might 
have  said  this  is  a  tribute  to  my  philanthropy,  and  deliv- 
ered it  down  to  my  children.  .  .  .'  That  recognition 
of  his  'appeal  to  the  charity  of  mankind'  by  the  por- 
trayal of  Sheva  was  lacking,  is  evident  from  the 
Memoirs:  'The  public  prints  gave  the  Jews  credit  for 
their  sensibility  in  acknowledging  my  well-intended  ser- 

10  Mrs.  Mathews,  Memoirs  of  Charles  Mathews,  1.243-4. 

11  Boaden,  L*/*  of  Mrs.  Jordan,  1.264. 

12  The  Lady's  Magazine,  May,  1794. 


RENEWED  SUCCESS.— THE  JEW 237^ 

vices:  my  friends  gave  me  joy  of  honorary  presents,  and 
some  even  accused  me  of  ingratitude  for  not  making 
public  my  thanks  for  their  munificence  .  .  .  but  not  a 
word  from  the  lips,  not  a  line  did  I  receive  from  the  pen 
of  any  Jew,  though  I  have  found  myself  in  company  with 
many  of  their  nation.'  Oxberry  tells  the  following  anec- 
dote of  Cumberland's  later  feelings  towards  the  Jews: 
'It  was  reported  that  Mr.  Cumberland  had  received  a 
handsome  present  from  the  Israelites,  in  consequence  of 
the  white-washing,  or  rather  gilding,  he  had  given  them 
in  his  Jew.  This  report  induced  a  gentleman  to  ask  him 
the  question.  "No,"  said  Mr.  Cumberland,  "They  gave 
me  nothing;  and  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am  glad  of  it; 
for  if  they  had,  in  all  probability  I  should  have  been 
indicted  for  receiving  stolen  goods."  '13  Cumberland's 
final  gibe  for  the  Jews  was:  'If  I  have  said  for  them  only 
what  they  deserve,  why  should  I  be  thanked  for  it?  But 
if  I  have  said  more,  much  more,  than  they  deserve,  can 
they  do  a  wiser  thing  than  hold  their  tongues?' 

Boaden's  view  of  the  ingratitude  of  the  Jews  was  like 
Cumberland's:  'Mr.  Cumberland  deplores  the  "ridicule 
and  contempt"  with  which  they  have  been  treated  on  the 
stage,  till  Sheva,  as  I  presume  he  thought,  did  them  jus- 
tice. Their  character  is  retrievable  when  Sheva  is  not 
extraordinary  among  them.  .  .  .  '14  The  reader  of  today 

13  Dramatic  Biographies,  5.214. 

™Life  of  Mrs.  Jordan,  1.265.  See  also  Mrs.  Inchbald,  The  British 
Theatre,  18,  Dunlap,  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  George  Frederick  Cooke, 
2.59,  and  Genest,  7.150-1.  The  Jew  probably  influenced  Dibdin's  play, 
The  Jew  and  The  Doctor.  Cumberland  read  the  play  for  Dibdin.  See 
Oulton,  History  of  the  London  Theatre,  2.43.  Colman  alludes  to 
The  Jew  in  his  Sylvester  Daggerwood,  3.  The  prologue  and  epilogue 
of  The  Jew  were  published  in  The  European  Magazine  for  May,  1795, 
and  The  Lady's  Magazine  for  June,  1795.  See  also  Notes  and  Queries, 
9.5.416,  479. 


238  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

immediately  finds  an  explanation  for  the  silence  of  the 
Jews  in  regard  to  the  play,  namely,  that  Sheva  is  too 
ridiculous  to  merit  thanks.  The  Jew  may  amuse,  may 
even  please,  but  can  hardly  inspire  a  people's  gratitude. 

The  Wheel  of  Fortune  has  often  been  praised  as  Cum- 
berland's second-best  play.  At  the  opening  of  the  play 
Roderick  Penruddock  is  shown  far  from  the  haunts  of 
men,  in  loneliness  and  despair.  Cheated  of  his  be- 
trothed by  his  enemy,  Woodville,  he  has  lived  for 
twenty  years  sunk  in  sadness  and  misanthropy.  He 
learns  with  exultation  of  a  strange  trick  of  fortune;  an 
inheritance  long  destined  for  Woodville  has  suddenly 
become  his;  with  all  the  passion  of  a  Borgia  he  conse- 
crates himself  to  revenge.  But  while  searching  in  Lon- 
don for  his  ancient  enemy  he  meets  young  Henry  Wood- 
ville; hatred  for  the  boy's  father  is  softened  in  a 
thousand  tender  recollections  of  the  mother,  Penrud- 
dock's  lost  Arabella.  He  hears  with  understanding  of 
young  Woodville's  love  for  Emily  Tempest,  and  begins 
to  shrink  from  a  revenge  which  shall  involve  in  its  ruin 
so  many  innocent  lives.  Stung  beyond  measure  by  the 
reproaches  of  his  conscience  and  stirred  by  the  appeals 
of  Sydenham,  the  friend  of  Woodville,  Penruddock 
repents,  forgives  Woodville,  and  bestows  a  fortune  upon 
the  lovers. 

A  few  dissentient  voices  among  the  critics  were  lost  in 
a  general  outburst  of  praise.  The  March  number  of 
The  Lady's  Magazine,  the  regular  decrier  of  Cumber- 
land, declared  that  the  success  of  The  Wheel  of  Fortune 
was  more  decided  than  that  of  any  comedy  since  The 
School  for  Scandal  and  was  likely  to  be  nearly  as 
permanent. 

If  this  praise  was  not  undeserved  it  was  due  to  the 


RENEWED  SUCCESS.— THE  JEW  239 

power  of  'the  pale,  unhappy  Penruddock,'  who  'seems 
to  take  possession  of  the  attention  and  of  the  heart,'  and 
who  'weakens  the  interest  of  everything  in  which  he  is 
not  immediately  concerned.'  'Penruddock,'  says  The 
Monthly  Review  for  April,  'so  entirely  swallows  up  the 
lean  kine  by  which  he  is  surrounded,  that  we  scarcely 
know  that  such  beings  have  existence.' 

Penruddock  was  successful  on  the  stage  because  he 
combined  keen  interest  with  the  strength  of  the  desired 
moral  appeal.  It  should  be  noticed  that  the  design  of 
revenge  upon  Woodville  is  but  a  superficial  thing.  At 
every  point  the  villain  pauses,  and  indulges  in  sentimental 
reflections;  his  final  repentance  is  a  foregone  conclusion. 
When  he  has  'the  despoiler  of  [his]  peace'15  at  the 
pistol's  point,  he  is  disconcerted  by  a  note,  and  though 
described  by  Henry  Woodville  as  'a  gloomy  misanthrope 
shunning  and  shunned  by  all  mankind,'18  his  only  re- 
venge is  to  tell  young  Woodville  the  story  of  his  father's 
guilt.  As  early  as  the  second  act  Penruddock  speaks  of 
the  'mercy  in  his  bosom,'17  and  when  Sydenham  re- 
proaches him  at  the  end  of  the  third,  we  know  that  his 
plan  is  laid  aside.  This  is  very  far  from  sweeping  to  a 
revenge,  or  issuing,  'like  a  hungry  lion  from  his  den,  to 
ravage  and  devour.'18  Penruddock  lacks  spine.  His 
repentance  springs  not  from  self-conquest,  but  from 
irresolution.  The  misanthrope's  first  thoughts  on  his 
return  to  London  are  the  natural  ones  for  a  man  bent 
on  revenge:  'Within  me  anarchy  and  tumult!  Thoughts 
uncollected,  jarring  resolutions,  avarice,  revenge,  ambi- 

15  The  Wheel  of  Fortune,  3.3. 
™lbid.,  2.3. 
17  Ibid.,  2.3. 
is  Ibid.,  2.3. 


240  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

tion.  .  .  .  '19  But  at  the  home  of  his  'once-beloved  Ara- 
bella'20 he  wavers :  'Here  .  .  .  she  wrote  that  melancholy 
appeal,  which  wrung  the  weapon  from  my  hand,  when 
raised  against  her  husband's  life.  I'll  read  it  once  again; 
the  scene  conspires,  a  sympathetic  gloom  comes  over 
me.'20  Such  speeches  do  not  move  the  modern  reader. 
He  prefers  a  more  relentless  vengeance,  and  a  more 
natural  repentance. 

But  Penruddock  is  more  than  the  ordinary  sentimental 
comedy  hero.  Difficult  as  it  is  to  analyze,  there  is,  in  the 
character,  an  unusual  depth  and  power.  Cumberland 
was,  for  a  time,  at  least,  gifted  with  insight  to  depict  an 
affectionate  nature  deeply  wronged.  Some  of  Penrud- 
dock's  speeches  sound  the  deep  notes  of  pathos.  In  1838 
Dunham  wrote  that  the  character  still  kept  possession  of 
the  stage,  and  that  he  believed  it  would  live;21  Mudford 
thinks  it  Cumberland's  best  character;22  and  Scott  thought 
so  highly  of  it  as  to  place  it  in  a  novel.'23 

The  acting  of  The  Wheel  of  Fortune  centres  in  the 
part  of  Penruddock.  Innumerable  tributes  to  Kemble's 
acting  in  this  role  exist.  One  of  the  best  is  Boaden's :  'I 
was  now  very  frequently  with  Kemble,  and  know  the 
great  pains  he  took  with  the  character  of  Penruddock  in 
the  Wheel  of  Fortune.  It  came  at  length  upon  the  stage, 
on  the  28th  of  February,  one  of  the  most  perfect  imper- 
sonations that  had  ever  excited  human  sympathy.  He 

19  The  Wheel  of  Fortune,  2.3. 
2°  Ibid.,  2.3. 

21  Eminent  Literary  and  Scientific  Men  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland, 
3.362. 

22  Life  of  Richard  Cumberland,  556-7. 

23  Dunham  says:  'Sir  Walter  Scott,  in  transferring  the  character  of 
Penruddock  to  his  tale  of  The  Black  Dwarf,  gave  it  to  the  public  in  a 
coarse  disguise,  and  made  what  was  in  the  original  dignified  and  just, 
romantic  and  unnatural.'    Eminent  Literary  and  Scientific  Men  of  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland,  3.362. 


RENEWED  SUCCESS.— THE  JEW  241 

had  fashioned  every  sentence  of  the  part  to  his  own 
organs,  so  that  it  seemed  a  decided  reality;  and  his  per- 
sonal manner  was  so  little  disturbed,  that  the  spectator, 
by  an  easy  delusion,  almost  fancied  that  Mr.  Kemble 
was  relating  some  striking  misfortunes  that  had  happened, 
in  early  life,  to  himself.  I  most  seriously  affirm,  that, 
for  identity,  Penruddock  would  hardly  admit  of  compe- 
tition. Here  from  the  great  intimacy  between  us,  he 
advised  with  me  as  to  the  plain  and  almost  quaker  attire 
he  wore;  and  I  saw  in  his  walk,  and  occasionally  in  his 
countenance,  the  image  of  that  noble  wreck  of  treachery 
and  love,  which  was  shortly  to  command  the  tears  of  a 
whole  people.'24 

Comments  upon  Kemble's  acting  in  the  role  of  Pen- 
ruddock  differ  only  in  degree.  'Nothing,'  says  one 
critic,  'in  dramatic  representation  can  excel  the  judg- 
ment, feeling,  and  discrimination,  with  which  Mr. 
Kemble  plays  this  amiable,  generous-hearted  misan- 
thrope.'25 'He  acted  with  spirit,'26  he  'shared  ...  the 

2*  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  John  Philip  Kemble,  338.  Michael  Kelly, 
in  his  Reminiscences  [256],  tells  a  story  of  Kemble:  'About  three  weeks 
previous  to  the  bringing  out  of  this  play,  I  went  into  the  prompter's  room, 
and  found  Kemble,  who  was  going  to  dine  with  me,  sealing  up  a  parcel. 
He  said,  "My  dear  Mic,  desist  a  moment  until  I  send  off  this  to  Cumber- 
land; it  is  a  comedy  of  his  which  I  write  to  tell  him  is  accepted;  and,  if 
I  am  not  greatly  mistaken,  there  is  a  character  in  it  that  will  do  some- 
thing for  me;  at  least  I  feel  that  I  can  do  something  with  it.  Mind,  you 
and  Nancy  (meaning  Mrs.  Crouch)  must  promise  to  see  me  act  it  the 
first  night."  We  according  did,'  continues  Kelly,  'and  were  delighted; 
and  ever  after,  considered  Kemble,  Penruddock;  and,  Penruddock, 
Kemble.  .  .  .'  'I  remember,'  says  Kelly,  'after  poor  Suett's  death, 
Kemble,  lamenting  the  event,  and  saying  to  me, — "My  dear  Mic,  Penrud- 
dock has  lost  a  powerful  ally  in  Suett;  Sir,  I  have  acted  the  part  with 
many  Weazles,  and  good  ones,  too,  but  none  of  them  could  work  up  my 
passion  to  the  pitch  that  Suett  did." ' 

2*Biographia  Dramatica,  4.400. 

26  The  Lady's  Magazine,  March,  1795. 


242  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

applause  with  the  author,'27  are  casual  selections  from 
long  accounts,  and  particular  scenes  are  abundantly 
praised.  So  Genest  commends  Penruddock's  interview 
with  Emily,28  and  The  Universal  Magazine  for  March 
declares  that  the  'chair  scene  with  the  son  of  his  once 
loved  Arabella  is,  perhaps,  at  the  full  height  of  the 
mimic  art.' 

Biographic  Dramatica  gives  a  graphic  description  of 
Penruddock's  indecision  in  taking  his  revenge  upon 
Woodville :  'In  determining  how  he  shall  behave  toward 
the  Woodvilles,  he  keeps  up  most  admirably  indeed,  the 
struggle  between  a  desire  for  revenge  for  the  wrongs 
he  has  suffered  from  his  rival,  and  tenderness  for  his 
former  mistress.  Nor  can  anything  be  finer  than  his 
exultation  when  virtue  prevails.  Serenity  seems  restored 
to  that  mind  which  has  been  the  scene  of  the  most  dread- 
ful conflicts;  and  he  appears  truly  to  feel  the  glow  of 
complacency  which  attends  the  exercise  of  benevolence.'29 
In  1808  Kemble's  eminence  in  the  part  was  still  undis- 
turbed: 'Last  night,'  says  Genest,  'Mr.  Kemble  per- 
formed his  favourite  character  of  Penruddock,  in  The 
Wheel  of  Fortune.  This  is  one  of  the  parts  in  which  he 
appears  to  the  highest  advantage,  and  the  performance 
is  a  complete  and  masterly  one.'30  On  March  13,  1807, 
Kemble  gave  the  first  of  twelve  performances  which  were 
announced  as  his  farewell  appearance  on  the  Edinburgh 
stage,  prior  to  his  final  retirement.  Among  the  roles 
chosen  were  Cato,  Macbeth,  Wolsey,  Coriolanus,  Brutus, 
Hamlet — and  Penruddock. 

27  The  European  Magazine,  March,  1795. 

28  Genest,  7.187. 

29  Biographia  Dramatica,  4.400.     See  also  Mudford,  Life  of  Richard 
Cumberland,  553,  Mitford,  Recollections  of  a  Literary  Life,  171-2,  and 
Cumberland,  British  Theatre,  18. 

30  Genest,  7.187. 


RENEWED  SUCCESS.— THE  JEW  243 

The  Wheel  of  Fortune  is,  in  theme  and  tone,  not 
unlike  one  of  Kotzebue's  plays.  Mrs.  Inchbald  justly 
estimated  the  relations  of  the  two  in  her  prefatory 
remarks  to  The  Wheel  of  Fortune:  'Never  was  there  one 
play  taken  from  another  with  such  ingenuity,  such  nice 
art,  and  so  little  injury  to  either,  as  this  play  has  been 
taken  from  the  German  "Misanthropy  and  Repentance;" 
leaving  still  the  German  to  be  translated  into  English  by 
the  title  of  'The  Stranger."  ' 

'It  is  said  Mr.  Cumberland  merely  saw  a  critique  on 
Kotzebue's  drama  in  a  review,  some  years  before  it  was 
brought  upon  the  London  stage;  and  from  thence  col- 
lected substance  for  this  most  interesting  play  ...  It 
is  certain  he  is  no  farther  indebted  to  the  foreign  author, 
than  for  a  faint  glimmering  of  plot,  incident,  and  char- 
acter, to  which  he  has  added  his  own  original  sunshine. 
A  reader  may  peruse  the  two  plays  in  one  evening,  and 
yet  be  highly  delighted  with  both; — they  are  performed 
on  succeeding  nights,  yet  auditors  go  successively  to  the 
theatre;  and  certain  spectators  do  not  even  find  a  resem- 
blance between  them.'31 

Cumberland's  response  is  amusing  and  characteristic: 
'I  had  been  better  pleased  if  Mrs.  Inchbald  .  .  .  would 
not  have  taken  from  me  (what  she  does  not  want  for 
herself)  the  credit  of  originality  as  the  author  of  The 
Wheel  of  Fortune.  I  must  think  it  was  not;  a  very  lady- 
like action  in  her  .  .  .'3  It  is  certain  that  Cumberland 
cried  out  before  he  was  struck.  Mrs.  Inchbald  merely 
denied  the  seriousness  of  a  resemblance  which  all  could 
see.  Whether  Cumberland  was  familiar  with  Kotze- 

31  Mrs.  Inchbald,  The  British  Theatre,  18.  'Remarks  Prefatory  to 
"The  Wheel  of  Fortune."  ' 

52  The  London  Review,  conducted  by  Richard  Cumberland,  1,  'Intro- 
ductory Address,'  3. 


244  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

hue's  drama  or  not,  the  plays  are  sufficiently  dissimilar 
to  discount  the  charge  of  plagiarism. 

Cumberland  was  singularly  fallible  in  judging  his  own 
plays.  Mudford  tells  the  anecdote  of  'a  gentleman  who 
seized  an  opportunity  of  thanking  [the  author]  for  the 
delight  he  had  experienced  in  reading  The  Wheel  of 
Fortune*  and  says  that  Cumberland  replied,  with  some 
chagrin,  '  uSir,  that  is  not  the  best  thing  I  ever  wrote."  '33 
Many  critics  thought  The  Wheel  of  Fortune  the  drama- 
tist's best  play,  and  Mrs.  Inchbald,  though  she  mentioned 
Cumberland's  debt  to  Kotzebue,  gave  the  play  high 
praise.  Leslie  Stephen  considers  The  Wheel  of  Fortune 
and  The  Jew  Cumberland's  two  most  popular  dramas.34 

The  success  of  The  Wheel  of  Fortune  was  due  to  a 
simultaneous  exercise  of  Cumberland's  talents.  We  find 
many  plays  of  his  containing  graceful  dialogue,  many 
with  a  forceful  moral  appeal,  and  a  few  with  a  single 
powerful  character  like  Sheva  or  Don  Pedro.  But  in 
The  Wheel  of  Fortune  there  is  a  happy  combination  of 
almost  all  these  essentials.  The  restrained,  thoughtful 
diction,  the  exaltation  of  Penruddock's  moral  victory, 
and  the  simplicity  and  strength  of  his  character,  unite  to 
create  a  drama  of  interest,  and  some  permanent  value. 

33  Mudford,  Life  of  Richard  Cumberland,  556. 

34  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  'Richard  Cumberland.' 


CHAPTER  XIV 

CUMBERLAND'S  NOVELS.—  BROTHER 
DRAMATISTS 


success  of  The  Wheel  of  Fortune  might  have  led 
Cumberland  into  the  final  belief  that  what  talents 
fate  had  given  him  were  destined  to  be  employed  in  the 
writing  of  sentimental  comedy.  Yet  zeal  for  reputation 
again  brought  him  from  the  paths  of  righteousness.  The 
same  year  which  gave  Penruddock  to  the  world  brought 
forth  his  second  novel,  Henry.  While  The  West  Indian 
and  The  Wheel  of  Fortune  were  acted  in  England  and 
America  well  into  the  nineteenth  century,  Henry  sank  at 
once  into  a  repose  which  has  never  been  disturbed;  its 
characters,  as  stiff  as  Cumberland's  theory  of  novel-writ- 
ing, have  been  mercifully  forgotten.  The  mild  welcome 
previously  accorded  Arundel  was  the  cause  of  this  new 
essay.  'This,'  says  the  author,  'determined  me  to  write 
a  second,  on  which  I  was  resolved  to  bestow  my  utmost 
care  and  diligence.'  Cumberland's  model  was  Tom 
Jones,  and  Fielding's  influence  invigorates,  almost  creates, 
the  novel.  Most  obviously  imitative  are  the  chapters 
prefatory  to  the  twelve  books,  all  written  in  the  manner 
of  Fielding.  The  reader  will  call  these  excellent  mechani- 
cal imitations  of  the  greater  novelist.  By  negation  Cum- 
berland shows  the  power  of  Fielding;  his  pleading  and 
entreating  tone  contrasts  ill  with  the  kindly  assurance  of 
Fielding.  The  chords  are  struck,  but  the  master's  touch 
is  lacking.  A  student  of  the  comparative  influences  of  the 
eighteenth  century  novelists  will  find  interest  in  Cumber- 


246  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

land's  account  of  his  own  apostleship.  The  following 
portraits  are  taken  from  Henry.  The  originals  are  not 
difficult  to  recognize. 

An  eminent  author  [Cumberland  begins]  whose  talent  for 
novel-writing  was  unequalled  and  whose  authority  ought  greatly 
to  weigh  with  all  who  succeed  him  in  the  same  line,  furnished  his 
baiting-places  with  such  ingenious  hospitality,  as  not  only  to  supply 
his  guests  with  the  necessary  remissions  from  fatigue,  but  also  to 
recruit  them  with  viands  of  a  very  nutritive,  as  well  as  palatable 
quality.  According  to  his  figure  of  speech,  (which  cannot  be  mis- 
taken, as  alluding  to  his  prefatory  chapters,)  he  has  been  not  only 
a  pleasant,  facetious  companion  by  the  way,  but  acted  the  part  of 
an  admirable  host  at  every  one  of  the  inns.  Alas!  it  was  famous 
travelling  in  his  days.  I  remember  him  full  well,  and  despair  of 
ever  meeting  his  like  again,  upon  that  road  at  least. 

Others  there  have  been,  and  one  there  was,  of  the  same  day, 
who  was  a  well-meaning,  civil  soul,  and  had  a  soft  simpering  kind 
of  address,  that  took  mightily  with  the  ladies,  whom  he  contrived 
to  usher  through  a  long,  long  journey,  with  their  handkerchiefs  at 
their  eyes,  weeping  and  wailing  by  the  way,  till  he  conducted  them, 
at  the  close  of  it,  either  to  a  ravishment,  or  a  funeral,  or  perhaps 
to  a  mad-house,  where  he  left  them  to  get  off  as  they  could.  He 
was  a  charming  man,  and  had  a  deal  of  custom;  but  the  other's 
was  the  house  that  I  frequented. 

There  was  a  third,  somewhat  posterior  in  time,  not  in  talents, 
who  was  indeed  a  rough  driver,  and  rather  too  severe  to  his  cattle ; 
but  in  faith,  he  carried  us  on  at  a  merry  pace  over  land  or  sea; 
nothing  came  amiss  to  him,  for  he  was  up  to  both  elements,  and  a 
match  for  nature  in  every  shape,  character,  and  degree:  he  was 
not  very  courteous,  it  must  be  owned,  for  he  had  a  capacity  for 
higher  things,  and  was  above  his  business ;  he  only  wanted  a  little 
more  suavity  and  discretion  to  have  figured  with  the  best.1 

But  'the  famous  travelling'  of  Fielding  was  not  for 
Cumberland.  Henry  gives  no  remission  from  fatigue. 

1  Henry,  Book  2. 


CUMBERLAND'S  NOVELS  247 

Henry  is  an  infinitely  correct  and  dull  young  man  who, 
having  all  the  experiences  of  a  Joseph  Andrews,  takes 
them  with  entire  seriousness.  The  progress  of  his  virtue 
through  seduction,  calumny,  and  murder  does  not  differ 
materially  from  many  a  play  or  novel,  nor  can  the  achiev- 
ing of  a  father  and  a  bride  in  the  last  of  the  twelve  books 
cause  an  overwhelming  shock  of  surprise.  The  character 
of  Ezekiel  Daw,  the  Methodist  preacher,  is  touched  with 
happy  strokes,  and  received  hearty  praise  from  Scott,  who 
says:  'We  are  of  opinion  that  the  character  of  Ezekiel 
Daw,  which  shews  the  Methodist  preacher  in  his  strength 
and  in  his  weakness,  bold  and  fervent  when  in  discharge 
of  his  mission,  simple,  well-meaning,  and  even  absurd,  in 
the  ordinary  affairs  of  life,  is  not  only  an  exquisite,  but  a 
just  portrait.'2  The  other  characters,  Zachary  and  Je- 
mima Cawdle,  Susan  May,  and  Fanny  Claypole  may  be 
set  down  as  vulgar  caricatures.  Lacking  the  refinement 
in  which  Cumberland  often  clothes  his  characters,  they 
fall  to  the  other  extreme  of  commonness,  without  the 
redeeming  graces  of  heartiness  and  health.  The  charges 
of  coarseness  laid  upon  Henry  are  well  substantiated  by 
a  reading  of  the  novel. 

The  hopelessness  of  Cumberland's  style  as  a  novelist 
is  more  striking  than  weakness  of  either  his  plot  or  his 
characters.  Interminable  speeches  dry  up  our  patience, 
and  the  singsong  balance  of  pedantic  sentences  from  the 
lips  of  heiress  and  maid  creates  a  constant  air  of  unreality. 
No  one  except  Cumberland  himself  may  call  it  'a  simple, 
clear,  harmonious  style.' 

While  writing  Henry,  Cumberland  evolved  an  elabo- 
rate theory  for  the  composition  of  novels,  a  short  outline 
of  which  is  given  in  the  Memoirs.  The  tone  of  com- 

2  Novels  of  Sivift,  Eage  and  Cumberland,  'Prefatory  Memoir  to  Cum- 
berland,' 55. 


248  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

placency  is  singularly  incommensurate  with  the  success  of 
the  novels.  'If,'  he  says,  'the  readers  of  Henry  have 
agreed  with  me  in  the  principles  laid  down  ...  I  flatter 
myself  they  found  a  novel  conducted  throughout  upon 
those  very  principles,  and  which  in  no  one  instance  does  a 
violence  to  nature,  or  resorts  to  forced  and  improbable 
expedients  to  excite  surprise.  .  .  . ' 

In  all  the  prose  writings  of  Cumberland  we  may  dis- 
cover the  dramatic  point  of  view.  The  Observer  contains 
a  sentimental  comedy;  the  characters  of  Arundel  would 
form  an  admirable  dramatis  personae;  in  Henry  is  an 
illumining  statement  of  the  dramatic  theory  applied  to 
the  novel.  'A  novel,'  he  says,  'may  be  considered  as  a 
dilated  comedy;  its  plot,  therefore,  should  be  uniform, 
and  its  narrative  unbroken:  episode  and  digression  are 
sparingly,  if  at  all,  admitted;  the  early  practice  of  weav- 
ing story  within  story  should  be  avoided;  the  adventures 
of  the  Man  of  the  Hill,  in  The  Foundling,  is  an  excres- 
cence that  offends  against  the  grace  and  symmetry  of  the 
plot:  whatever  makes  a  pause  in  the  main  business,  and 
keeps  the  chief  characters  too  long  out  of  sight,  must  be  a 
defect.  In  all  histories,  whether  true  or  fictitious,  the 
author  cannot  too  carefully  refrain  from  speaking  in  his 
own  person;  and  this  is  yet  another  reason  to  be  added 
to  those  already  given,  why  political  discussions  should 
never  be  admitted  in  a  novel.  .  .  .  '3 

It  is  the  strict  adherence  of  Cumberland  to  this  plan 
and  the  lack  of  inspiration  which  make  Henry  excellent 
as  an  instance  of  theoretical  writing,  but  worthless  as  a 
readable  novel.  'To  us,'  says  The  Edinburgh  Review  for 
November,  1814,  'it  appears  that  a  story  may  possess 
novelty,  probability,  and  variety  in  its  incidents;  that  the 

3  Henry,  Book  6. 


CUMBERLAND'S  NOVELS  249 

incidents  may  be  arranged  by  the  narrator,  so  as  to  keep 
us  ignorant  of  the  final  issue  till  the  last;  that  it  may 
possess  all  the  ornaments  which  our  author  has  enumer- 
ated— a  good  style,  characters  well  defined  and  interest- 
ing in  themselves,  sentiments  as  sublime  as  any  in  Epicte- 
tus,  and  descriptions  as  fine  as  in  the  Romance  of  the 
Forest,  or  as  correct  as  in  Bell's  Travels;  nay,  to  crown 
all,  we  can  even  conceive  that  the  story  shall  be  written  in 
prose; — and  yet,  that  with  all  these  merits,  which  are  all 
that  our  author  requires,  it  shall  be  a  string  of  events  so 
unimportant  or  unimpassioned,  that  a  second  perusal 
would  be  quite  insufferable.  Have  we  not  seen  Mr. 
Cumberland's  novels?' 

Cumberland  has  some  uneasy  defences  of  the  dubious 
passages  in  Henry:  'What  I  have  written,'  he  says,  'I 
have  written  in  the  hope  of  recommending  virtue  by  the 
fiction  of  a  virtuous  character,  which,  to  render  amiable, 
I  made  natural,  and  to  render  natural,  I  made  subject  to 
temptations,  though  resolute  in  withstanding  them.'4  The 
Memoirs  contains  a  similar  passage:  'If  in  my  zeal  to 
exhibit  virtue  triumphant  over  the  most  tempting  allure- 
ments, I  have  painted  those  allurements  in  too  vivid 
colours,  I  am  sorry,  and  ask  pardon  of  all  those,  who 
thought  the  moral  did  not  heal  the  mischief.'5  It  cannot 
but  be  surprising  that  the  writer  who  sought  to  elevate 
the  stage  and  who  stood  for  morality  and  benevolence 
should  have  indulged  in  certain  scenes  found  in  Arundel 
and  Henry.  Mr.  Hitchman  frankly  calls  them  indecent, 
and  says  it  is  a  plain  evidence  of  failing  powers.  'Mr. 
Cumberland,'  says  a  reviewer,  '.  .  .  has,  in  his  story  of 
Arundel,  already  made  a  very  successful  display  of  his 
inventive  talents.  But  we  are  now  to  announce  a  work, 

4  Henry,  Book  10. 

5  Memoirs,  261-2. 


250  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

acknowledged  to  be  the  production  of  his  pen,  which,  if 
we  mistake  not,  will  raise  his  literary  reputation  higher 
than  any  of  his  former  pieces.  .  .  .  Within  a  small  circuit 
of  rural  scenery,  Mr.  C.  has  brought  together  a  group 
of  characters,  diversified  by  rank  and  profession,  and  con- 
trasted in  habits  and  manners,  and  relates  concerning 
them  a  tale  equally  remote  from  insipidity  and  improba- 
bility. .  .  .  Henry,  the  hero  of  the  tale,  possesses  a 
delicacy  of  honour,  a  firmness  of  virtue,  and  a  generosity 
of  sentiment,  above  the  ordinary  standard.  ...  In  short, 
as  a  lively  picture  of  manners,  and  an  interesting  repre- 
sentation of  familiar  life,  which  is  written  in  an  easy 
flowing  style,  without  any  affected  novelty  in  phrase  or 
arrangement,  and  in  which,  though  natural  passions  are 
described  without  a  squeamish  regard  to  false  delicacy, 
the  general  tendency  and  effect  is  strongly  to  impress  the 
mind  of  the  reader  with  the  love  of  virtue,  this  novel  may 
be  pronounced  a  master-piece.'6 

Cumberland  was  sixty-three  years  old  when  he  wrote 
The  Wheel  of  Fortune.  His  position  in  literature  and 
the  world  was  now  clearly  established.  The  dreams  of 
boyhood  were  not  fulfilled;  nor  could  they  ever  be. 
Neither  were  the  aspirations  awakened  by  The  West 
Indian  as  near  realization  as  a  quarter  of  a  century  before. 
But  The  Jew  and  The  Wheel  of  Fortune  emphasized 
more  vigorously  than  ever  where  lay  his  one  talent.  He 
was  a  successful  writer  of  sentimental  comedy — nothing 
more.  The  prints  of  the  time  record  his  status,  not  illus- 
trious, but  honourable.  We  find  him  generally  recog- 
nized as  'dramatic  writer-in-ordinary  to  the  theatre.'  A 
jealous  rival  complains  because  'he  seems  to  have  got 
possession  of  the  town'  and  Mrs.  Thrale,  in  a  letter  to 

6  The  Analytical  Review,  May,  1795. 


CUMBERLAND'S  NOVELS  251 

the  Reverend  Daniel  Lysius,  links  him  with  the  inevitable 
Jephson  as  a  regular  provider  for  the  stage.  On  June 
9,  1795,  Doctor  Burney  confesses  his  admiration  for 
Cumberland's  'three  successful  plays  in  one  season.'7  His 
influence  at  the  theatres  is  not  to  be  despised,  and  there 
are  stories  of  his  friendliness  to  dramatic  writers  less 
fortunate  than  himself.  If  his  jealousy  of  Fanny  Burney 
had  been  real,  it  did  not  check  his  willingness  to  render 
her  a  generous  service.  Sixteen  years  later  he  offered  to 
help  her  with  a  play.  On  March  21,  1795,  at  Drury 
Lane  Theatre  was  performed  a  tragedy  by  Miss 
Burney,  Edwy  and  Elvina.  Despite  the  acting  of  Mrs. 
Siddons  and  Kemble,  the  play  failed,  and  was  at  once 
withdrawn.  'Mr.  Cumberland,'  Doctor  Burney  writes 
his  daughter,  '.  .  .  was  extremely  courteous,  and  seem- 
ingly friendly  about  you  and  your  piece  .  .  .  He  expressed 
his  sorrow  at  what  had  happened  at  Drury  Lane,  and  said 
that,  if  he  had  had  the  honour  of  knowing  you  sufficiently, 
he  would  have  told  you  d'avance  what  would  happen,  by 
what  he  had  heard  behind  the  scenes.  The  players  seem 
to  have  given  the  play  an  ill  name.  But,  he  says,  if  you 
would  go  to  work  again,  by  reforming  this,  or  work  with 
your  best  powers  at  a  new  plan,  and  would  submit  it  to 
his  inspection,  he  would,  from  the  experience  he  has  had, 
risk  his  life  on  its  success.  This  conversation  I  thought 
too  curious  not  to  be  mentioned.'8  Fanny  wrote  in  reply: 
'Your  conversation  with  Mr.  Cumberland  astonished  me. 
I  certainly  think  his  experience  of  stage  effect,  and  his 

7  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  5.260.    Cumber- 
land as  a  successful  playwright  was  satirized  in  a  pasquinade,  The  Rut- 
land Volunteers  Influez'd  [.fir],  which  appeared  in  1783 ;  likewise  in  the 
couplet: 

Let  Cumberland  produce  a  play, 
And  Keate  to  Andrews  yield  the  day. 

8  Ibid.,  5.252-3. 


2$2  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

interest  with  players,  so  important,  as  almost  instantly  to 
wish  putting  his  sincerity  to  the  proof.'9 

In  the  meantime  Cumberland  produces  plays  over- 
night with  a  speed  which  his  contemporaries  could  endure 
with  difficulty.  A  criticism  by  Arthur  Murphy,  long  a 
rival  of  Cumberland's,  is  typical  of  the  malicious  nonsense 
that  the  dramatist  had  to  bear: 

Richard  Cumberland,  Esq.  (is)  a  gentleman,  who  had  been  for 
some  years  hovering  about  the  skirts  of  Parnassus,  without  enter- 
ing far  enough  to  taste  the  Pierian  spring,  and  without  gaining 
a  sprig  of  laurel.  At  length,  it  seems,  he  penetrated  the  green 
retreats,  exclaiming  with  fervent  zeal  and  ardour,  as  he  approached 
the  laurel-grove,  that  he  should  be  happy  if  he  could  grasp  the 
golden  branch.  .  .  .  Thalia  lent  a  favourable  ear,  and  directed  him 
on  his  way.  He  seized  the  prize  with  avidity;  sensations  unfelt 
before  raised  him  above  himself,  and  new  ideas  crowded  on  his 
imagination.  He  surveyed  the  mass  of  life,  and  having  selected 
his  dramatis  personae,  arranged  the  plan  of  a  comedy.  .  .  . 

He  should,  however,  have  remembered,  that,  when  he  had 
plucked  one  golden  branch,  another  grows  in  the  room  of  it.  ... 
This,  though  told  by  Virgil,  he  seems  to  have  forgot.  Flushed 
with  success,  prolific,  eager,  and  too  rapid,  he  hurried  on  without 
the  smallest  regard  for  fame.  Festina  Lente  ought  to  have  been 
the  rule  of  a  man  who  had  given  proof  of  real  genius.  But  to 
bridle-in  his  struggling  muse  would  to  him  be  too  much  restraint.10 

'The  struggling  Muse'  produced  nine  more  pieces  be- 
tween 1795  and  1800,  all  totally  lacking  in  originality  or 
distinction.  It  was,  indeed,  said  that  Thomas  Davies  had 
in  mind  our  author  when  he  spoke  of  the  well-known 
dramatic  writer  who  'lived  upon  potted  stories,  and  said 
that  he  made  his  way  as  Hannibal  did,  by  vinegar;  having 
begun  by  attacking  people;  particularly  the  players.'11 

9  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  5.257. 

10  Life  of  David  Garrick,  2.87-9. 

11  Boswell,  Life  of  Johnson,  Hill  ed.,  3.40. 


CUMBERLAND'S  NOVELS  253 

First  Love,  a  light  comedy  of  sentimental  intrigue,  was 
acted  at  Drury  Lane  Theatre  on  May  12,  1795.  'The 
general  moral  is  clear,'  says  The  European  Magazine 
for  June,  that  'parents  should  never  cross  the  dictates  of  a 
first  love,  as  it  is  the  genuine  effusion  of  innocence  and  sim- 
plicity, and  promises  more  than  any  other  circumstance  to 
secure  conjugal  felicity — '  The  Dependant,  performed  at 
the  same  theatre  on  October  20,  1795,  lasted  one  evening. 
It  was  then  the  custom  on  the  first  night  to  try  the  temper 
of  the  audience  in  respect  to  other  performances.  When 
Bannister  Junior  stepped  forward,  at  the  conclusion  of 
The  Dependant,  to  announce  the  play  for  a  second  repre- 
sentation, his  intention,  says  The  London  Chronicle  of 
October  21,  'was  frustrated  by  the  clamour  of  disappro- 
bation.' 'Mr.  Cumberland,'  says  Boaden  in  satiric  vein, 
'had  done  recently  so  much,  that  I  suppose  five  weeks  were 
as  long  a  period  as  he  allowed  to  the  composition  of  a 
comedy — On  the  29th  of  this  month  he  occupied  Drury 
Lane  stage  with  a  thing  called  The  Dependant.  It  was 
not  suffered  to  linger  in  its  uneasy  station,  but  was  brushed 
away  on  the  first  night.'12 

A  reader  of  the  plays  of  this  period  of  Cumberland's 
career  cannot  but  sympathize  with  James  Macpherson, 
who,  in  lamenting  his  lack  of  leisure,  says :  'As  Diogenes 
said,  when  he  was  reading  one  of  C  .  .  b  .  .  rl  .  .  .  d's 
Plays  to  a  yawning  Audience,  and  had  come  to  the  5th 
Act — "Courage!  My  friends,  I  see  land!" — I  am  now 
so  far  in  the  5th  Act,  that,  I  believe,  to-morrow  or  the 
next  day,  I  may  step  on  shore.'™  The  Days  of  Yore,  put 
on  at  Covent  Garden  on  January  13,  1796,  and  Don 
Pedro,  which  appeared  at  The  Haymarket,14  on  July  23 

12  Life  of  Mrs.  Jordan,  1.290. 

18  The  Whitefoord  Papers,  Hewins  ed. 

14  Genest,  1.266. 


254  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

of  this  year  failed.  The  former,  to  use  Genest's  phrase, 
'wants  incident';  the  latter,  according  to  The  London 
Chronicle  of  July  27,  Svas  given  out  for  a  second  rep- 
resentation with  a  mixture  of  applause  and  disappro- 
bation.' Don  Pedro  manifests  one  of  Cumberland's 
dramatic  virtues,  the  depicting  of  a  single  powerful  char- 
acter. 'Don  Pedro,'  to  quote  Genest,  'is  one  of  those 
hardened  villains,  who  are  not  often  to  be  met  with,  but 
the  character  is  not  pushed  beyond  the  bounds  of  nature.'15 
His  attraction  is  the  attraction  of  Don  Juan;  he  conquers 
by  his  very  excess  of  wickedness. 

On  May  7,  1797,  Drury  Lane  offered  The  Last  of  the 
Family.  This  comedy  Oulton,  the  dramatic  historian, 
describes  as  'a  discarded  foundling.'16  'The  idea,'  he 
concedes,  'afforded  room  for  interest;  but  the  parent  who 
gave  the  unfortunate  bantling  birth,  left  him  without  sup- 
port and  his  existence  on  the  stage  was  consequently  ren- 
dered short.'  On  the  twenty-third  of  the  following  No- 
vember False  Impressions  was  acted  at  Covent  Garden 
Theatre.  'The  characters  and  the  best  of  the  plot  of  this 
piece,'  says  The  European  Magazine  for  December,  'are 
evidently  taken  from  .  .  .  HENRY,'  and  adds  that  'the 
play  has  most  of  the  faults  of  this  Author's  performances, 
and  some  of  his  merits.  It  is  not  calculated  (though  it 
has  been  very  successful)  to  increase  the  reputation  of  the 
author  of  the  West  Indian.'  False  Impressions  is  easily 
the  most  readable  of  the  later  plays.  Emily  is  a  char- 
acter of  verve  and  charm,  and  Scud,  who  suggests  a 
Jonsonian  buffoon,  energizes  the  entire  play  by  his  alert, 
brittle  speeches.  Eleven  days  after  the  first  performance 
of  The  Last  of  the  Family,  was  acted  The  Village  Fete, 

15  Genest,  7.277. 

18  History  of  the  London  Theatre,  1.24. 


CUMBERLAND'S  NO V ELS  255 

a  musical  piece  generally  ascribed  to  Cumberland.  The 
piece  was  performed  in  honour  of  the  royal  nuptials,  and, 
was  probably  given  but  twice.  During  this  same  year 
Cumberland  translated  The  Clouds.  From  musical 
comedy  to  Aristophanes !  This  play  is  ranked  by  Genest 
as  a  composition  deserving  of  production.  It  may  be 
found  in  The  Observer,  verifying  the  judgment  of  The 
Edinburgh  Review  that  it  is  'Aristophanes  imprisoned  in 
brocade  and  mounted  upon  stilts  into  the  bargain.'17  Two 
comedies  close  the  necrology  of  this  period.  The  Eccen- 
tric Lover  appeared  on  April  30,  1798,  at  Drury  Lane 
Theatre,  and  was  never  acted  again.  December  5  of  this 
year  saw  the  production  of  A  Word  for  Nature,  or  The 
Passive  Husband.  'It  was,'  says  Boaden,  'but  a  word. 
It  had  the  slightest  of  all  Cumberland's  plots,  nothing 
whatever  of  character,  and  the  interest  was  never  the 
subject  of  the  smallest  doubt  through  the  whole  five  acts.'18 
Besides  his  regular  dramatic  productions  during  these 
years,  Cumberland  wrote  several  prologues  and  occa- 
sional pieces.19  When  Miss  Betterton  first  appeared  at 
Covent  Garden  as  Edwina  in  Percy,  it  was  Cumberland 
who  wrote  the  introductory  address.20  On  September  16, 

17  The  Edinburgh  Review,  November,  1820. 

18  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  John  Philip  Kemble,  386. 

19  The  Gentleman's  and  Lady's  Weekly  Magazine  for  Friday,  March 
18,   1774,  says  that  the  prologue  to  Sethona,  Alexander  Dow's  tragedy, 
was  written  by  Cumberland.     In  Prince  Hoare's  comedy,  Sighs,  or  the 
Daughter,   'a    beautiful    ballad    was    introduced    .    .    .    written   by   Mr. 
Cumberland.'    See  also  The  Cabinet,  1.293  and  1.355. 

20 The  address  began: 

FRIENDS  of  the  Moral  Stage,  whose  Smiles  bestow 
Those  joys  that  cause  the  throbbing  heart  to  glow; 
You,  whose  device  can  panic  fears  controul, 
And  light  the  lamp  of  genius  in  the  soul.  .   .   . 

See    The  European  Magazine,  November,    1797,   and  Memoirs   of  Mrs. 
Crouch,  2.300. 


256  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

1799,  'before  the  comedy  of  "Laugh  when  you  can,"  an 
occasional  address,  written  by  Mr.  Cumberland,  was 
spoken  by  Mr.  Pope;  the  chief  subjects  of  which  were 
the  death  of  Tippoo  and  the  decorations  of  the  theatre.'21 
On  October  25,  1798,  Thomas  Dibdin  had  produced  The 
Mouth  of  the  Nile,  or  The  Glorious  First  of  August. 
'Previous  to  its  representation,  Mr.  Dibdin  having  had  an 
interview  with  Mr.  Cumberland,  .  .  .  was  advised,  by 
this  gentleman,  to  write  the  present  temporary  trifle. 
.  .  .  '22  The  Dibdins  and  Cumberland  were  closely  allied, 
professionally  at  least.  T.  Dibdin's  London  Theatre 
contains  three  of  Cumberland's  comedies.23  On  Novem- 
ber 23,  1798,  T.  Dibdin's  farce,  The  Jew  and  the  Doctor, 
was  acted.  'As  there  was  a  benevolent  Jew  in  the  piece, 
it  was  sent  to  Mr.  Cumberland,  author  of  the  comedy  of 
the  "Jew"  for  any  alteration  he  might  deem  proper.'24 
In  some  way  C.  Dibdin  offended  Cumberland.  'Mr.  Cum- 
berland,' says  he,  'had  brought  out  an  opera  at  Covent- 
Garden,  which  had  no  great  success,  and  he  afterwards 
cut  it  down  to  an  after-piece,  which  was  brought  out  at 
Drury-Lane.  I  was  applied  to,  by  the  author,  to  com- 
pose the  piece  anew;  but  apprehensive  that  the  transaction 
would  savour  of  the  article,  I  premised  that  it  must  be  a 
separate  charge.  To  this  he  agreed,  desiring  me  to  send 
him  my  terms,  which  I  did  in  a  letter.  Each  article  was 
valued  reasonably  by  his  own  confession;  and,  after  the 
piece  came  out  which  had  but  little  success,  for  it  was 

21  Oulton,  History  of  the  Theatres  of  London,  2.54. 

22  Ibid.,  2.41.    'Cumberland,  catching  at  something  between  Cowley  and 
Dryden,  supplied  a  prologue,  spoken  with  great  animation  by  H.  John- 
stone.'    Boaden,  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  John  Philip  Kemble,  385. 

23  These  are  The  Brothers,  The  West  Indian,  and   The  Fashionable 
Lover. 

24  Oulton,  History  of  the  Theatres  of  London,  2.43. 


CUMBERLAND'S  NOVELS  257 

merely  an  episode  cut  out  of  a  first  piece,  I  sent  in  my 
bill,  which  I  think  amounted  to  sixty-three  pounds.  I 
received  no  answer  from  Mr.  Cumberland;  but  from 
Garrick  I  got  a  severe  reprimand,  glancing  at  ingratitude 
for  benefits  conferred,  and  a  peremptory  notice  that  the 
piece  was  considered  as  composed  under  my  article,  con- 
sequently I  got  no  recompense  at  all.  These  three  items, 
as  the  reader  will  see,  amount  to  something  more  than 
two  hundred  pounds;  to  which,  if  I  were  to  ransack  my 
memory,  I  might  add  others  equal,  at  least,  to  any  inter- 
est, usurious  enough  to  have  been  demanded  by  the  most 
rapacious  Jew/25 

It  seems  reasonably  certain  that  Cumberland  made 
little  attempt  to  satisfy  Dibdin,  and  thus  secured  one  more 
enemy.  That  Dibdin  was  hostile,  is  clear.  'I  shall  not/ 
he  says,  'notice  the  unhappy  mode  in  which  Mr.  Cumber- 
land's Widow  of  Delphi  was  triumphantly  advertised  over 
my  head,  though  it  was  afterwards  damned?20 

The  clash  with  Dibdin  was  but  one  of  many  with 
brother  dramatists.  Boaden  says  that  Cumberland  'was 
hurt  ...  on  the  iSth  of  the  same  month,  of  April, 
[1793]  by  the  brilliant  success  of  Reynolds27  in  his  third 
comedy,  .  .  .  How  to  grow  Rich.  .  .  .The  "Terence  of 
England,"  forsooth!  the  "mender  of  hearts"  was  exces- 
sively illiberal  through  life;  and  affected  to  think  my  in- 
genious and  pleasant  friend  a  mere  idler  of  the  garden; 

25  The  Professional  Life  of  Mr.  Dibdin,  Written  by  Himself,  1.132, 
foot-note. 

26  Ibid.,  2.55.     Cumberland  helped  to  interlineate  Dibdin's  Touchstone. 

27  From    1818    to    1822    Reynolds    was    'thinker'    for    Covent    Garden 
Theatre.     Byron,  in  English  Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers,  characterizes 
him  well: 

While  Reynolds  vents  his  'dammes,  poohs,  and  zounds' 
And  commonplace  and  common  sense  confounds. 


258  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

who  under  the  awful  roof  of  Drury,  would  be  hooted 
ignominiously  from  the  stage.'28 

Cumberland's  jealousy  took  definite  form  four  years 
later.  The  story,  also  told  by  Boaden,29  is  best  related  by 
Reynolds  himself.  It  was  his  first  meeting  with  Cumber- 
land, and  the  occasion  was  the  performance  of  The  Will 
on  April  19,  1797.  'The  first  act  received  considerable 
applause;  but,  in  the  opening  scene  of  the  second,  two  or 
three  sentences  spoken  by  R.  Palmer,  being  violently 
hissed,  I  had  thereby  the  pleasure  of  being  introduced  to 
another  new  acquaintance,  Cumberland,  at  that  time,  the 
established  Drury  Lane  author.  During  the  opposition, 
he  rushed  from  the  orchestra,  where  he  was  seated,  to 
the  green  room,  and  requesting  Wroughton,  (then  the 
acting  manager,)  to  introduce  him  to  me,  the  moment  the 
ceremony  was  concluded,  he  exclaimed,  with  considerable 
irritation, 

*  "Let  this,  [5/V]  be  a  lesson  to  you,  young  gentleman !" 
Then  taking  snuff,  he  hastened  back  to  the  orchestra,  evi- 
dently expecting  that  I  should  be  benefited  by  further 
correction  ...  it  moved  me  not;  as  poacher  on  Cumber- 
land's premises,  he  certainly  might  be  excused  firing  one 
shot  at  me.'30 

'Mr.  Cumberland's  extraordinary  behaviour  to  Rey- 
nolds,' says  Boaden,  'was  soon  accounted  for;  he  had  a 
new  comedy  himself  in  preparation,  called  the  Last  of  the 
Family.'** 

Thomas  Holcroft,32  actor  and  dramatist,  had  in  his 

28  Life  of  Mrs.  Jordan,  1.231. 

29  Ibid.,  1.323. 

30  Life  of  Frederick  Reynolds,  2.141. 

31  Life  of  Mrs.  Jordan,  1.329. 

32  Duplicity,  the  first  of  Holcroft's  many  comedies,  appeared  at  Covent 
Garden  in  October,  1781.     The  Road  to  Ruin  was  acted  on  February  18, 
1792.     Holcroft  won  great,  though  not  lasting,  dramatic  success. 


CUMBERLAND'S  NO  V ELS  259 

repertoire  a  number  of  Cumberland's  roles,  having  played 
with  some  success  Colin  Macleod  and  Mortimer  in  The 
Fashionable  Lover,  and  in  addition  to  these,  Major 
O'Flaherty,  Fulmer,  and  Varland  in  The  West  Indian. 
Cumberland,  on  the  other  hand,  was  the  author  of  the 
prologue  to  Holcroft's  most  successful  play,  The  Road 
to  Rum.  Holcroft's  diary  shows  us  Cumberland  when 
almost  seventy  years  old,  and  tells  an  adventure  of  Ti- 
berius,™ one  of  the  dramatist's  unacted  plays.  On  Octo- 
ber 4,  1798,  he  writes  that  Cumberland  has  sent  this 
tragedy,  'which  had  been  repeatedly  refused,  as  a  new 
play  to  the  theatre.  It  was  cheerfully  received  till  the 
title  was  read,  and  then  immediately  returned.'34  Hoi- 
croft  then  describes  a  characteristic  letter  from  Cumber- 
land to  Aikin,  the  actor,  saying  'it  was  a  mistake  to  sup- 
pose it  the  same  Tiberius;  it  was  no  longer  a  tragedy;  and 
if  magic,  music,  scenery,  and  dialogue,  could  interest  an 
audience,  he  had  greater  expectations  from  this  than  from 
any  piece  he  had  ever  produced.  It  was  the  most 
laboured,  the  oftenest  revised,  and  the  best  written  of  all 
his  works.  The  letter  concluded  with  an  appeal  to 
posterity.'35 

There  are  various  hints  that  Cumberland  had  in  him 
a  parsimonious  strain.36  George  Cumberland  had  dis- 
covered it  long  ago.  Writing  his  brother  in  1777  he  says : 
'What  if  I  was  to  ask  Mr  Rich.  Cumberland  for  £20? 
He  would  never  forgive  me  as  long  as  I  live — God  bless 

33  This  play  was  rejected  frequently  by  the  managers.     It  was  finally 
printed    after    Cumberland's    death.      See    The    Posthumous    Works    of 
Richard  Cumberland,  2.131. 

34  Memoirs  of  the  Late  Thomas  Holcroft,  Written  by  Himself,  2.49. 

35  Ibid.,  2.49. 

36  Doctor  Johnson  speaks  of  the  debts  of  a  Mr.  C who  may  possibly 

be  Cumberland. 


260 RICH4RD  CUMBERLAND 

you  both,  I  hope  we  have  none  of  his  blood  in  our  veins.'37 
Likewise,  Rogers  suggests  that  he  had  given  Cumber- 
land financial  help.38  Perhaps,  then,  it  is  a  convincing 
proof  of  Cumberland's  friendship  for  Holcroft  that  he 

wished  to  lend  the  actor  money.  'Mr.  C ,'  writes 

Holcroft,  'surprised  me  very  much  by  a  very  liberal  and 
friendly  offer  of  the  loan  of  two  or  three  hundred 
pounds.'39  Michael  Kelly  tells  a  story  of  a  visit  to 
Cumberland's  home.40 

In  the  year  1797  Cumberland  invited  Bannister  and 
Kelly41  to  visit  him  at  Tunbridge  Wells.  His  guests, 
having  accepted,  had  previously  arranged  with  Mrs. 
Crouch42  to  write  for  them,  if  the  stay  became  irksome — a 
pleasant  commentary  upon  their  host ! 

Kelly's  account  of  the  first  evening  is  diverting:  'The 
party  consisted  of  myself,  Bannister,  Mrs.  Cumberland, 
an  agreeable  well-informed  old  lady,  and  our  host  who, 
by-the-bye,  during  dinner,  called  his  wife,  mamma.  We 
passed  a  pleasant  evening  enough,  but  wine  was  scarce; 
however  what  we  had  was  excellent,  and  what  was  want- 

37  Cumberland  Letters,  146. 

38  Clayden,  Early  Life  of  Samuel  Rogers,  246. 

39  Memoirs  of  the  Late  Thomas  Holcroft,  Written  by  Himself,  3.107-17. 
™Ibid.,  2.50-1. 

41  Michael   Kelly,   actor,   singer,   and  composer,   after  study  in  Italy, 
became  musical   director  of   Drury  Lane   and  joint  manager  of  King's 
Theatre.     Kelly  helped  produce  Cumberland's  comedy,  The  Last  of  the 
Family,  and  the  operetta,  The  Jew  of  Mogadore.    In  spite  of  his  fondness 
for  ridiculing  the  dramatist,  he  speaks  of  'his  staunch  friend,   Cumber- 
land.'   'He  was,'  says  Kelly,  'a  perfect  gentleman  in  his  manners,  and  a 
good  classical  scholar.' 

42  Miss  Phillips,  later  Mrs.  Crouch,  made  her  first  appearance  at  Drury 
Lane  Theatre,  in  1781,  in  the  opera,  Artaxerxes.    'She  was  much  admired 
for  her  vocal   abilities.'     Her  Memoirs  is  an  amusing  collection  of  old 
dramatic  records,  all  touched  with  the  author's  sentimental  point  of  view. 
Mrs.  Crouch,  at  one  time,  played  the  role  of  Louisa  Dudley  in  The  West 
Indian. 


CUMBERLAND'S  NOVELS  261 

ing  in  beverage,  was  amply  supplied  in  converse  sweet, 
and  the  delights  of  hearing  the  reading  a  \_sic~\  five-act 
comedy.'  The  play  was  too  much  for  Kelly.  'Long 
before  the  end  of  the  second  act/  he  says,  'I  was  fast  as 
a  church — a  slight  tendency  to  snoring,  rendered  this 
misfortune  more  appalling  than  it  otherwise  would  have 
been;  and  the  numberless  kicks  which  I  received  under  the 
table  from  Bannister,  served  only  to  vary,  by  fits  and 
starts,  the  melody  with  which  nature  chose  to  accompany 
my  slumbers. 

'When  it  is  recollected,  that  our  host  and  reader  had 
served  Sheridan  as  a  model  for  Sir  Fretful,  it  may  be 
supposed  that  he  was  somewhat  irritated  by  my  inexcus- 
able surrender  of  myself:  but  no;  he  closed  his  proceed- 
ings and  his  manuscript  at  the  end  of  the  second  act,  and 
we  adjourned  to  a  rational  supper  upon  a  cold  mutton 
bone,  and  dissipated  in  two  tumblers  of  weak  red  wine 
and  water.' 

Cumberland  in  showing  Kelly  to  his  room  remarked 
that  the  bookcase  at  the  side  of  the  bed  'was  filled  with 
his  own  writings.'  The  irrepressible  Irishman  bowed, 
and  'said,  "I  dare  say,  Sir,  I  shall  sleep  very  soundly." 

"Ah!  very  good,"  said  he;  "I  understand  you, — a 
hit,  Sir,  a  palpable  hit;  you  mean  being  so  close  to  my 
writings,  they  will  act  as  a  soporific.  You  are  a  good 
soul,  Mr.  Kelly,  but  a  very  drowsy  one — God  bless  you — 
you  are  a  kind  creature,  to  come  into  the  country  to  listen 
to  my  nonsense — buonas  noches!  as  we  say  in  Spain — 
good  night!  .  .  ."  ' 

Kelly  admitted  that  'the  old  gentleman  was  not  over- 
pleased,'  but  said  he  'really  had  no  intention  of  giving  him 
offence.  He  was  allowed,  however,  to  be  one  of  the  most 


262  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

sensitive  of  men,  when  his  own  writings  were  spoken  of; 
and  moreover,  reckoned  envious  in  the  highest  degree.' 

Kelly  tells  another  story,  well  known  in  its  day,  which 
probably  has  more  wit  than  truth.  A  rescuing  letter 
having  arrived  from  their  confederate,  Bannister  and 
Kelly  informed  the  host  of  their  impending  departure. 
*  "My  children,"  said  he,  "I  regret  that  you  must  leave 
your  old  bard,  but  business  must  be  attended  to,  and  as 
this  is  the  last  day  I  am  to  have  the  pleasure  of  your  com- 
pany, when  you  return  from  your  evening's  rambles  on 
the  pantiles,  I  will  give  you  what  I  call  a  treat." 

'After  dinner,  Bannister  and  myself  went  to  the  library. 
"What,"  said  I  to  Bannister,  "can  be  the  treat  Cumber- 
land has  promised  us  to-night  ?  I  suppose  he  took  notice 
of  your  saying  at  dinner,  that  your  favourite  meal  was 
supper,  and  he  intends,  as  we  are  going  away  to-morrow 
morning,  to  give  us  some  little  delicacies."  ...  On  our 
return  from  our  walk,  we  found  Cumberland  in  his  par- 
lour, waiting  for  us.  As  I  had  anticipated,  the  cloth  was 
laid  for  supper,  and  in  the  middle  of  the  table  was  a  large 
dish  with  a  cover  on  it. 

'When  we  were  seated,  with  appetites  keen,  and  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  mysterious  dainty,  our  host,  after  some 
preparation,  desired  a  servant  to  remove  the  cover,  and 
on  the  dish  lay  another  manuscript  play.  "There,  my 
boys,"  said  he,  "there  is  the  treat  which  I  have  promised 
you;  that,  Sirs,  is  my  Tiberius,  in  five  acts;  and  after  we 
have  had  our  sandwich  and  wine  and  water,  I  will  read 
you  every  word  of  it.  I  am  not  vain,  but  I  do  think  it  by 
far  the  best  play  I  ever  wrote,  and  I  think  you'll  say  so." 

'The  threat  itself  was  horrible;  the  Reading  sauce  was 
ill  suited  to  the  light  supper,  and  neither  poppy  nor  Man- 
dragora,  nor  even  the  play  of  the  preceding  evening, 


CUMBERLAND'S  NOVELS  263 

would  have  been  half  so  bad  as  his  Tiberius;  but  will  the 
reader  believe  that  it  was  no  joke,  but  all  in  earnest,  and 
that  he  actually  fulfilled  his  horrid  promise,  and  read  the 
first  three  acts?  but  seeing  violent  symptoms  of  our  old 
complaint  coming  over  us,  he  proposed  that  we  should  go 
to  bed,  and  in  the  morning  that  he  should  treat  us,  before 
we  started,  by  reading  the  fourth  and  fifth  acts;  but  we 
saved  him  the  trouble,  for  we  were  off  before  he  was  out 
of  his  bed.  .  .  ,'43 

43  Reminiscences  of  Michael  Kelly,  280-5. 


CHAPTER  XV 
THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND 

A  BOUT  1800  Cumberland  assumes  the  retrospective 
^*-  role  which  makes  his  life  unique.  He  is  no  longer 
living  in  the  age  of  Johnson  and  Goldsmith;  the  new 
order  is  established.  His  are  now  the  sorrows  and  also 
the  compensations  of  the  man  who  has  outlived  his  gen- 
eration. It  is  a  melancholy  picture  that  the  Memoirs  and 
records  of  the  time  give  us,  but  it  has  pronounced 
interest.  Goldsmith  had  now  been  dead  twenty-six  years, 
Johnson  sixteen,  Reynolds  eight,  Gibbon  six,  and  Boswell 
five.  New  constellations  had  begun  to  shine  in  the  literary 
heavens.  Samuel  Rogers  was  now  thirty-seven,  and 
William  Wordsworth  thirty  years  old.  Among  the  great 
figures  of  the  new  generation  which  Cumberland  could 
know,  but  to  which  he  could  not  properly  belong,  were 
many  still  in  the  bloom  of  youthful  genius,  Scott,  Cole- 
ridge, Southey,  Lamb,  Landor,  Moore,  and  Jane 
Austen.  Boyhood  yet  claimed  Hazlitt,  Byron,  Shelley, 
Keats,  and  Carlyle.  Many  of  these  Cumberland  was 
privileged  to  know;  on  some  he  exercised  a  distinct  in- 
fluence. We  shall  look  at  him  through  their  eyes  as  we 
have  looked  at  him  through  those  of  men  of  the  eighteenth 
century. 

The  events  of  the  last  years  were  few  and  without 
great  significance.  The  first  eleven  of  the  century  are 
substantially  the  last  of  Cumberland's  life.  During  their 
passage  he  wrote  unceasingly  plays,  novels,  and  poems. 
Nine  plays  of  his  had  first  nights  after  1800.  If  we  trust 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  265 

rumours,  and  if  we  number  his  posthumous  plays,  we  may 
believe  that  his  shelves  were  virtually  littered  with  drama 
in  manuscript.  He  was  at  work  upon  a  tragedy  when  he 
was  taken  ill  for  the  last  time.  Upon  all  these  plays  lie 
heavily  the  marks  of  weakness  and  anxiety.  On  January 
1 6,  1800,  appeared  at  Covent  Garden  a  new  evidence  of 
Cumberland's  versatility  in  dramatic  composition,  Joanna 
of  Montefaucon,  'a  vehicle,'  says  the  February  Lady's 
Magazine,  'for  the  charms  of  music,  scenery,  decoration, 
and  stage-effect.'  The  next  three  pieces  were  all  acted  at 
Drury  Lane  Theatre,  Lovers'  Resolutions  on  March  2, 
1802,  The  Sailor's  Daughter  on  April  17,  1804,  and  'a 
temporary  trifle'  called  The  Victory  and  Death  of  Lord 
Nelson,  on  November  11,  1805.  Six  performances  of  a 
comedy  named  A  Hint  to  Husbands  are  recorded  by  The 
Theatrical  Register  of  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  be- 
tween March  8  and  March  17  at  Covent  Garden  Theatre. 
In  the  same  season  Cumberland  reverted  to  musical 
comedy.  On  May  3,  1808,  was  acted  at  Drury  Lane 
Theatre  The  Jew  of  Mogadore,  exploiting  the  adventures 
of  'a  second  Sheva,'  Rooney,  a  stage  Irishman,  a  British 
sea-captain,  a  Negro,  and  some  Oudalin  Arabs.  The  re- 
maining plays  of  Cumberland  written  during  this  period 
may  be  briefly  catalogued:  The  Robber,  acted  at  Tun- 
bridge  Wells;  The  Widow's  Only  Son,  performed  at 
Covent  Garden  Theatre  on  June  7,  1810;  The  False  De- 
metrius, never  acted;  The  Sybil  [sic],  or  The  Elder 
Brutus,  revised  and  acted  after  Cumberland's  death,  on 
December  3,  1818;  and  three  unacted  dramas,  Tiberius 
in  Capreae,  Torrendal,  and  The  Confession. 

Yet  through  letters  and  old  diaries  we  have  cheer- 
ful glimpses  of  the  veteran  Cumberland.  He  was  now 
honoured  by  Sheridan's  regard.  Michael  Kelly  tells  a 


266  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

story  of  the  latter's  changed  attitude.  After  Kelly  had 
written  the  music  for  the  first  act  of  The  Jew  of  Moga- 
dore  the  board  of  management  at  Drury  Lane  still  hesi- 
tated to  accept  the  piece.  Meeting  Sheridan  one  day 
Kelly  told  him  of  his  trouble.  'He  desired  me,'  says  the 
composer,  'to  go  on  with  it  by  all  means;  "for,"  said  he, 
"if  the  opera  should  fail,  you  will  fall  with  a  fine  classical 
scholar,  and  elegant  writer,  as  well  as  a  sound  dramatist," 
(such  was  his  impression  of  Cumberland's  abilities). 
"Go,  instantly,"  continued  he,  "to  those  discerning  critics, 
who  call  themselves  the  'Board  of  Management,'  and  tell 
them,  from  me,  if  you  please,  that  they  are  all  asses,  to 
presume  to  sit  in  judgment  on  the  writings  of  such  a  man 
as  Cumberland;  and  say,  farther,  that  I  order  the  opera 
to  be  accepted,  and  put  into  rehearsal."  u 

An  excellent  picture  of  Cumberland  in  these  years  may 
be  had  in  the  last  pages  of  the  Memoirs.  His  patriotism, 
so  plain  in  the  letters  written  to  Pinckney  at  the  time  of 
the  American  Revolution,  is  again  visible.  At  the  begin- 
ning of  the  Napoleonic  wars  he  had  raised  a  corps  for 
home  defence.  'When,'  he  says,  'the  volunteer  infantry 
were  dismissed  at  the  peace  of  Amiens,  my  men  requested 
leave  to  hold  their  arms  and  serve  without  pay.  At  the 
same  time  they  were  pleased  to  honour  me  with  the  present 
of  a  sword  by  the  hands  of  their  Serjeant  Major,  to  the 
purchase  of  which  every  private  had  contributed,  and 
which  they  rendered  infinitely  dear  and  valuable  to  me  by 
engraving  on  the  hilt  of  it — "That  it  was  a  tribute  of  their 
esteem  for  their  beloved  commander."  In  a  letter  to  an 
unknown  correspondent,  written  in  January,  1805,  his 
pride  in  this  company  and  in  Britain  shows  forth.  'It  is 

1  Kelly,  Reminiscences,  350.     Yet  Cumberland's  last  dramatic  quarrel 
was  with  Sheridan  in  connection  with  The  False  Demetrius. 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  267 

true,'  he  says,  'that  I  am  in  the  decline  of  life,  and  more 
deeply  sunk  into  it  than  you,  yet  as  age  has  not  so  chill'd 
my  zeal  as  to  prevent  me  from  standing  forward  in  my 
country's  cause  as  Commandant  of  one  of  ye  most  re- 
spectable corps  in  West  Kent,  it  is  plain  that  you  &  I 
think  differently  about  the  character  of  our  Native  Island, 
and  that  I  regard  her  Conduct  to  all  Nations  by  no  means 
deserving  of  the  terms  you  affix  to  it — anti-christian  and 
unjust.'2  The  martial  activities  at  Tunbridge  Wells  alter- 
nated with  literary  patronage  of  ambitious  litterateurs. 
Sheridan's  conception  of  him  as  an  honoured  literary  land- 
mark was  a  popular  one;  age  and  proven  ability  entitled 
him  to  veneration.  'You,'  he  writes  his  friend,  Sir  James 
Bland  Burges,  'have  got  a  poet,  who  compliments  you  with 
his  printed  works,  alas !  I  have  got  two  unknown  corre- 
spondents, who  desire  my  judgment  of  their  manuscript 
ones — the  first  a  youth  who  writes  Epistles  in  Prose;  the 
latter  a  girl  of  seventeen  who  writes  tragedy,  as  I  guess, 
and  probably  neither  in  prose  nor  verse/8 

The  latter  part  of  Cumberland's  life  involved  new 
literary  enterprises.  The  year  1802  was  distinguished  by 
a  tract  called  A  few  plain  Reasons  Why  We  Should  Be- 
lieve in  Christ.  'Bred  in  the  bosom  of  the  church,'  Cum- 
berland had  never  been  diverted  from  the  paths  of  ortho- 
doxy. 'I  have,'  he  says  in  the  Memoirs,  'rendered  into 
English  metre  fifty  of  the  psalms  of  David  .  .  .  upon 
which  I  flatter  myself  I  have  not  in  vain  bestowed  my  best 
attention.  I  have,'  he  adds,  'for  some  years  been  in  the 

2  In  the  British  Museum.     Add.  MS.  36500,  f.  99.     Written  at  'Rams- 
gate,   23d   Janry    1805.'     Addressed   to   'No.    3    Sion   Hill,    Clifton,   near 
Bristol.' 

3  Letter   (probably  written  to  Sir  James  Bland  Burges)    in  the  posses- 
sion of  Mr.  Robert  Gould  Shaw  of  Boston,  Mass.     Another  letter  in  Mr. 
Shaw's  collection,   written   about  this  time,  has  much  to  say  concerning 
'Killigrew's  patent'  and  'the  popular  rage  ag3*  Kemble.' 


268 RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

habit  of  composing  an  appropriate  prayer  of  thanksgiving 
for  the  last  day  in  the  year,  and  of  supplication  for  the 
first  day  in  the  succeeding  year.' 

In  regard  to  a  report  that  he  had  seen  Cumberland, 
'the  perfect  man  of  his  day/  Cardinal  Newman  writes: 
'Lord  Blashford  is  substantially  right  about  Cumberland. 
I  think  he  came  to  an  evening  party  at  our  house.  My 
Father's  partial  love  for  me  led  to  my  reciting  some- 
thing or  other  in  the  presence  of  a  literary  man.  I  wish 
I  could  think  it  was  "Here  Cumberland  lies,"  from 
Goldsmith's  "Retaliation,"  which  I  knew  really  well  as  a 
boy.  The  interview  ended  by  his  putting  his  hand  on  my 
head  and  saying,  "Young  gentleman,  when  you  are  old 
you  can  say  that  you  have  had  on  your  head  the  hand  of 
Richard  Cumberland."  '* 

In  a  contemporary  magazine  Cumberland  was  de- 
scribed as  no  less  than  'the  able  defender  of  Christianity, 
and  the  practical  moralist  of  the  present  age,'  and  in  The 
Gentleman's  Magazine  for  December,  1815,  is  praised 
his  devotion  to  the  Bible.  The  new  tract,  since  it  was 
deemed  capable  of  refuting  all  heterodox  beliefs,  was  sent 
to  the  Bishop  of  London  and  to  the  Archbishop  of  Can- 
terbury. No  acknowledgments  were  received  from  the 
divines,  although  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  July, 
in  reviewing  it  at  length,  said  that  Mr.  Cumberland's 
cause  was  'good  and  his  support  of  it  judicious.' 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that  Cumberland  was  not 
insensible  of  his  sound  position  in  letters  as  'the  elegant 
Cumberland,'  for  forty  years  a  contributor  to  the  English 
stage,  renowned  for  his  moral  influence  upon  literature. 
With  perhaps  a  just  belief  in  the  value  of  a  long  and  well- 
spent  life,  he  had  resolved  to  give  the  world  an  account 

4  See  Letters  and  Correspondence  of  John  Henry  Newman,  Mozley  ed., 
1.15. 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  269 

of  it.  A  letter  written  to  his  cousin,  George  Cumberland, 
on  February  6,  1799,  had  told  of  the  preparation  of  mem- 
oirs 'to  be  given  to  ye  world,  when  I  have  left  it.'5  He 
further  states  his  purpose  in  no  uncertain  terms:  'As  no 
dramatic  writer  of  this  nation  ever  wrote  so  much,  and 
few  of  any  description  so  variously,  I  thought  it  justice 
to  myself  and  posterity  to  leave  this  account  behind  me 
faithfully  executed.'  Little  reflection  is  needed  to  per- 
ceive the  exaggeration  of  the  first  statement,  but  its  in- 
sertion in  a  personal  communication  indicates  the  writer's 
own  conception  of  his  prestige.  Another  epistle,  ad- 
dressed to  George  Lackington,  the  publisher,  is  replete 
with  directions,  and  evinces  the  careful  preparation  of 
the  author.  'At  the  close  of  the  year  1 804,'  he  begins  in 
the  Memoirs,  with  some  inaccuracy,  as  the  dates  of  the 
above-mentioned  letters  show,  'whilst  I  am  still  in  pos- 
session of  my  faculties,  though  full  of  years,  I  sit  down 
to  give  a  history  of  my  life  and  writings.  I  do  not  under- 
take the  task  lightly  and  without  deliberation,  for  I  have 
weighed  the  difficulties  and  am  prepared  to  meet  them.' 
So  began  the  book  which  more  than  any  other  work  of 
Cumberland's  has  withstood  the  passage  of  the  years. 

His  efforts  for  immortality  through  play,  novel,  and 
epic  poem  were  in  vain.  The  West  Indian  and  The  Fash- 
ionable Lover  are  read  only  by  students  of  the  drama. 
Henry  and  Calvary  are  as  nearly  forgotten  as  inspiration- 
less  books  may  be,  and  The  Observer  is  but  a  plunder 
chest  for  scholars.  By  a  curious  trick  of  fate  Cumber- 
land's strongest  hold  upon  fame  is  by  a  book  which  he 
wrote  to  cheat  poverty.  'The  copy-right  of  these  Mem- 
oirs,' wrote  Cumberland,  'produced  to  me  the  sum  of 
five  hundred  pounds.  .  .  . '  It  produced  also  the  far-off 

5  In  the  British  Museum.    Add.  MS.  36498,  f.  278. 


270  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

interest  of  perpetuating  his  name.  Cumberland's  Mem- 
oirs has  been  a  valuable  source  for  reconstruction  of  the 
past,  and,  besides,  a  book  for  the  quiet  evening. 

It  was  intended  that  the  book  be  published  after  the 
author's  death.  It  was  finally  given  to  the  world  early 
in  1806.  On  February  19  of  the  same  year  was  added  a 
copious  Supplement,  as  a  result,  doubtless,  of  the  attacks 
of  the  Edinburgh  reviewers.  Francis  Jeffrey  in  The 
Edinburgh  Review  for  April,  1806,  had  been  severe: 
'We  will  pronounce  no  general  judgment  on  the  literary 
merits  of  Mr.  Cumberland;  but  our  opinion  of  them  has 
not  been  raised  by  the  perusal  of  these  "Memoirs." 
There  is  no  depth  of  thought,  nor  dignity  of  sentiment 
about  him,  he  is  too  frisky  for  an  old  man,  and  too 
gossiping  for  an  historian.  His  style  is  too  negligent  even 
for  the  most  familiar  composition;  and  though  he  has 
proved  himself,  upon  other  occasions,  to  be  a  great  master 
of  good  English,  he  has  admitted  a  number  of  phrases 
into  this  work,  which,  we  are  inclined  to  think,  would 
scarcely  pass  current  even  in  conversation.  .  .  .  Upon 
the  whole,  this  volume  is  not  the  work  of  an  ordinary 
writer;  and  we  should  probably  have  been  more  indulgent 
to  its  faults,  if  the  excellence  of  some  of  the  author's 
former  productions  had  not  sent  us  to  its  perusal  with 
expectations  perhaps  somewhat  extravagant.' 

The  other  reviewers  were  more  charitable:  'He  who 
can  read  it  without  interest,'  said  The  British  Critic,  'must 
be  cast  in  the  same  mould  with  Sterne's  morose  traveller, 
who  goes  from  Dan  to  Beersheba,  and  exclaims  that  all  is 
barren.  Allow  him  his  partialities,  allow  him  even  a 
share  of  vanity,  yet,  after  all  deductions  to  be  made  on 
these  scores,  there  will  remain  a  narrative,  which  none  but 
a  man  of  genius  could  have  written,  and  none  but  an  illib- 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  271 

eral  reader  will  decry.'6  The  review  ends  with  a  wish 
for  Cumberland's  prosperity. 

Similarly,  The  Anti-Jacobin  Review  finds  the  book  'a 
modest  and  manly  performance,  replete  with  original  and 
important  information,  ingenious  disquisition,  and  inter- 
esting anecdote.  Such  indeed  as  we  were  led  to  expect 
from  the  character  of  this  celebrated  writer,  whose  quali- 
fications and  connections  were  peculiarly  favourable  to 
such  an  undertaking. 

'Few  men  of  equal  genius,  taste  and  literary  assiduity, 
have  moved  in  a  sphere  so  eminent  as  the  author  of  these 
Memoirs;  he  has,  during  a  long  and  laborious  life,  culti- 
vated and  preserved  an  intimacy  with  characters  the  most 
illustrious,  both  for  talent  and  station;  and  his  early 
advantages  were  peculiarly  auspicious.'7 

The  faults  of  the  Memoirs  are  innumerable.  The  book 
violates  every  known  canon  of  unity,  sequence,  and  accu- 
racy. Its  tone  is  often  a  compound  of  anxious  modesty 
and  open  vanity,  and,  in  addition,  the  Memoirs  is  fre- 
quently untruthful.  But  its  weakness  is  its  strength.  We 
hear  the  old  man  talking  of  the  past — one  who  has 
spanned  almost  a  century.  The  charm  of  the  Memoirs 
lies  in  the  fact  that  it  is  personal.9  What  if  the  writer  be 
Sir  Fretful  Plagiary?9 

A  more  hallowed,  perhaps,  but  a  less  fortunate  venture 
was  undertaken  shortly  afterwards  with  Sir  James  Bland 
Burges,  the  faithful  friend  of  Cumberland  in  these  years. 
Burges,  distinguished  as  a  lawyer  and  member  of  parlia- 

6  The  British  Critic,  May,  1806. 

7  The  Anti-Jacobin  Review,  March,  1806. 

8  See  Birrell,  Men,  Women,  and  Books,  'Richard  Cumberland,'  Aikin's 
Annual   Review  for    1805,    Mudford,   Life   of   Cumberland,    181,    Smith, 
Comic  Miscellanies,  2.4,  and  Letters  of  Anne  Seward,  6.309. 

9  Mudford's  Life   of  Richard   Cumberland,  based  upon  the   Memoirs, 
appeared  in  1812.     See  Bibliography. 


212  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

ment,  had  been  a  pupil  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's,  and  was  the 
author  of  an  epic  poem,  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion.  He 
had  written  the  prologue  to  A  Hint  to  Husbands,  and  was 
later  associated  with  Cumberland  in  the  publication  of  the 
magazine,  Pic-Nic.  It  was  he  who  unhappily  suggested  to 
Cumberland  the  writing,  in  collaboration,  of  an  epical 
history  of  the  Israelites'  release  from  bondage.  In  1807- 
1808  was  published  The  Exodiad,  which,  Horace  Smith 
said,  not  even  the  unction  of  religion  could  embalm. 
John  Murray's  comment  in  a  letter  to  Constable  is  con- 
clusive: he  sends  his  friend  'two  new  epic  poems  by 
Southey  and  Cumberland,  uSaul"  and  "The  Exodiad," 
both  taken  from  scripture,  (may  the  Lord  defend  you 
and  me  from  such  things!).'10 

In  1809  Cumberland  engaged  in  perhaps  his  only 
untried  literary  project,  the  establishment  of  a  magazine. 
This  was  named  The  London  Review,  and  was  edited  by 
Cumberland  himself,  although  he  was  then  seventy-seven 
years  old.  Henry  Crabbe  Robinson's  first  meeting  with 
Cumberland  was  in  this  connection:  'Tipper,'11  he  says, 
'who  estimated  my  talents  as  a  writer  by  my  reputation  as 
a  speaker,  solicited  me  to  become  a  collaborates,  under 
Cumberland,  the  well-known  dramatist,  in  getting  up  a 
new  Review,  called  the  London  Review,  of  which  the  dis- 
tinguishing feature  was  to  be  that  each  writer  should 
put  his  name  to  the  article.'12  It  was  this  last  terrifying 
clause  which  hindered  and  finally  put  an  end  to  the  new 
magazine.  A  letter  from  one  of  those  concerned  says: 
'The  project  is  tolerably  mechanical,  .  .  .  each  critique 
to  be  signed  by  its  author,  and  the  whole  phalanx  to  be 
headed  by  that  notorious  veteran  Richard  Cumberland, 

10  Constable  and  his  Literary  Correspondence,  367. 

11  A  bookseller  in  Fenchurch  Street. 

12  Diary  of  Henry  Crabbe  Robinson,  1.295. 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  273 

Esq.  .  .  .  '13  So  far  in  advance  of  the  time  was  this  idea 
of  Cumberland's,  and  so  deep  an  impression  did  it  make 
upon  literary  men,  that  we  find  a  letter  from  Walter  Scott 
to  Sharpe  in  regard  to  another  venture,  hinting  at  its 
folly:  'Observe  carefully,'  writes  Scott,  'that  this  plan  is 
altogether  distinct  from  one  which  has  been  proposed  by 
the  veteran  Cumberland,  to  which  is  annexed  the  extraor- 
dinary proposal  that  each  contributor  shall  place  his 
name  before  his  article,  a  stipulation  which  must  prove 
fatal  to  the  undertaking.'14 

Cumberland's  real  object  in  founding  The  London 
Review  was  the  correction  of  an  abuse.  Booksellers  of 
all  degrees  had  purchased  the  magazines,  and  behind  the 
bulwark  of  anonymity  dealt  terrific  blows  at  their  oppo- 
nents' publications,  while  they  lavished  praises  upon  their 
own.  Cumberland  purposed  cleansing  the  literary  world 
of  this  pest,  and  incidently  defending  his  own  head  from 
the  buffets  of  criticism.  In  his  Introductory  Address  he 
says :  'It  is  by  no  means  my  disposition  to  censure  indis- 
criminately a  whole  body  of  gentlemen,  concerned  in  the 
like  labours  with  my  own,  merely  because  they  carry  on 
their  operations  under  casemates  or  by  ambuscade,  whilst 
I  work  in  the  open  field;  yet  I  am  free  to  own  I  should 
like  to  see  their  faces,  that  I  might  have  a  better  chance 
for  understanding  their  manoeuvres:  when  the  enemy 
veiled  himself  in  a  cloud,  honest  Ajax  prayed  for  light. 
.  .  .  Every  one  must  confess,  that  there  is  a  dangerous 
temptation,  an  unmanly  security,  an  unfair  advantage  in 
concealment:  Why  then  should  any  man,  who  seeks  not 

13  Memoir  and  Correspondence  of  John  Murray,  1.98. 

14  Letters   from    and   to    Charles   Kirkpatrick   Sharpe,   Allerdyce    ed., 
1.351.      'Old    Cumberland,'    wrote    a    friend    to    Sharpe,    'volunteered    to 
introduce   ray   "Burletta"   upon   the   stage ;    but  he   is   a   crafty  Judas   I 
count.'    Ibid.,  1.429. 


RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 


to  injure  but  to  benefit  his  contemporaries  resort  to  it? 
...  A  piece  of  crape  may  be  a  convenient  mask  for  a 
highwayman;  but  a  man,  that  goes  upon  an  honest 
errand,  does  not  want  it  and  will  disdain  to  wear  it.'15 

The  conclusion  of  the  Address  has  a  dash  of  righteous 
defiance  :  'Approved  of  by  my  associates  as  the  conductor 
of  a  work,  that  professes  the  defence  of  genius,  I  trust 
that  I  possess  a  spirit,  which  neither  public  wrongs  nor 
private  sufferings  have  been  able  to  subdue;  and,  though 
with  one  foot  in  the  grave,  I  will  do  my  duty  and  maintain 
my  post  to  the  last.'16 

However  noble  Cumberland's  purpose,  the  ambus- 
caders  won,  for  The  London  Review  was  published  but 
twice.  Its  death  was  probably  due,  as  Moore  said,  to 
'original  dulness.'17  The  two  Smiths,18  Horace  Twiss, 
G.  W.  Crowe,  or  even  Mr.  Pye  were  not  names  to  chide 
the  genius  of  The  Quarterly  or  The  Edinburgh  Review 
into  silence. 

The  sixth  essay  of  The  London  Review's  first  issue 
was  an  account  by  Cumberland  of  the  Plan  of  an  Epic 
Poem,  in  Twelve  Books,  to  be  entitled,  Armageddon,  by 
Mr.  George  Townsend.19  For  Townsend,  Cumberland 
was  as  enthusiastic  as  for  all  his  proteges.  Townsend's 
ambitious  flight  moved  Byron  to  write:  'If  Mr.  Town- 
send  succeeds  in  his  undertaking,  as  there  is  reason  to 
hope,  how  much  will  the  world  be  indebted  to  Mr.  Cum- 

15  The  London  Review,  1,  'Introductory  Address,'  2. 

16  Ibid.,  1,  'Introductory  Address,'  6. 

17  Works  of  Lord  Byron,  Moore  ed.,  9.62,  foot-note. 

18  The  table  of  contents  included  A  new  System  of  Domestic  Cookery, 
formed  upon  principles  of  Economy.    .    .    .   Mr.  J.  Smith.     Cumberland 
polished  this  essay  with  several  quotations  from  the  Greek. 

19  George  Townsend,  author  of  various  religious  and  polemical  works. 
Help  given  him  by  Cumberland  enabled  him  to  enter  Trinity  College, 
Cambridge. 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  275 

berland  for  bringing  him  before  the  public!  But,  till 
that  eventful  day  arrives,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  the 
premature  display  of  his  plan  .  .  .  rather  incurred  the 
hazard  of  injuring  Mr.  Townsend's  future  prospects. 
Mr.  Cumberland  (whose  talents  I  shall  not  depreciate  by 
the  humble  tribute  of  my  praise)  and  Townsend  must  not 
suppose  me  actuated  by  unworthy  motives  in  this  sugges- 
tion.'20 Moore  says  that  all  of  Byron's  anticipations  were 
realized.  In  1815  Townsend  himself  said:  '  "In  the 
benevolence  of  his  heart,  Mr.  Cumberland,  bestowed 
praise  on  me,  certainly  too  abundantly  and  prema- 
turely. .  .  ."'« 

In  1809  was  written  and  published  Cumberland's  third 
and  last  novel,  John  De  Lancaster.  This  was  plainly 
created  at  the  demand  of  poverty.  The  story  is  inter- 
rupted frequently  by  pathetic  digressions  upon  the  suffer- 
ings of  its  author,  and  by  appeals  to  the  reader  for  toler- 
ance. The  first  volume  ends  mournfully  in  the  following 
fashion :  'I  have  been  too  long  acquainted  with  you,  dear 
candid  readers,  to  trouble  you  with  any  compliments,  or 
solicit  you  for  any  favours.  I  have  only  to  say,  that  I  am 
doing  my  utmost  to  amuse  you,  and  if  you  lay  down  this 
volume  with  any  appetite  for  the  second,  I  hope  you  will 
not  find  that  my  exertions  flag.'22 

The  novel  tells  a  peaceful  tale  of  the  unexceptionable 
families  of  the  De  Lancasters  of  Kray  Castle,  the  Mor- 
gans of  Glen-Morgan,  and  the  Ap-Owens.  Three  gen- 
erations of  the  first  family  are  shown  us,  the  eccentric 

20  Works   of  Lord  Byron,  Moore  ed.,  9.62-3,  foot-note.     Cumberland 
receives  mention  in  English  Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers: 

Awake,  GEORGE  COLMAN  !     CUMBERLAND,  awake ! 
Ring  the  alarum  bell!     let  folly  quake! 

21  Ibid.,  9.63,  foot-note. 

22  John  De  Lancaster,  Vol.  I,  Chapter  7. 


278  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

iniscences  of  Cumberland:  'He  had  a  vast  memory,  and 
a  great  facility  of  feeble  verbiage ;  but  his  vanity,  his  self 
conceit,  and  his  supercilious  airs  offended  everybody.'28 

John  Taylor,29  likewise,  found  Cumberland  'both  dis- 
agreeable and  pleasing.  When  he  was  not  touched  with 
jealousy  of  other  writers,  his  manners  were  highly  grati- 
fying. He  was  full  of  anecdotes,  but  sometimes  his 
memory  failed,  and  little  reliance  could  be  placed  on  the 
accuracy  of  his  narrations.  He  had  a  great  command  of 
language,  and  has  left  full  evidence  of  his  having  been  a 
good  scholar,  as  well  as  a  sagacious  critic.'30 

When  Hannah  More's  novel,  Coelebs^  was  published, 
The  London  Review  commented  upon  it,  and  after  an 
unpropitious  allusion  to  the  'hell-broth'  of  Macbeth, 
ended  in  the  following  strain:  'It  indicates  a  wish,  on  the 
part  of  the  author,  to  arrogate  for  the  Methodists  every 
virtue,  at  the  expence  of  the  rest  of  the  community.  Until 
it  be  thought  necessary,  however,  to  reform  the  present 
establishment,  and  until  all  our  bishops  shall  be  sufficiently 
enlightened  and  conversant  with  the  doctrines  of  Metho- 
dism to  be  fit  to  become  its  apostles,  it  will  be  a  duty  in- 
cumbent pn  all  those,  who  have  the  welfare  and  happiness 
of  their  country  at  heart,  to  watch  such  attempts  as  the 
present,  and  endeavour  to  repel  them.  The  attack  is 
more  dangerous  as  being  of  so  insidious  a  nature;  it  works 
by  mine  and  sap.  .  .  .  COELEBS  is  in  my  hands:  my 
duty  is  to  say — Caveat  emptor.'32 

Hannah  More's  rage  was  intense  and  forceful.     She 

29  John  Taylor  knew,  at  the  Turk's  Head  Coffee-House,  all  the  literary 
men  of  his  day.  He  was  the  author  of  numerous  prologues,  epilogues, 
and  addresses  for  the  stage. 

**  Records  of  My  Life,  2.161. 

31  Coelebs  In  Search  of  a  Wife  appeared  in  December,  1809.     Eleven 
editions  were  sold  in  England  and  thirty  in  America. 

32  The  London  Review,  1.444. 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  279 

wrote  to  William  Gray  of  York:  'I  have  never  written, 
and  by  the  grace  of  God,  I  never  will  write  a  line  in  my 
own  vindication,  though  Mr.  Cumberland  in  his  last 
Review  talks  of  my  "suckling  babes  of  grace,"  and 
"making  hell-broth;"  advises  the  Bishop  against  a  book 
which  is  intended  to  overturn  the  Church;  that  the  deepest 
mischiefs  lurk  in  every  page  of  "Coelebs;"  and  as  the 
book  is  in  every  body's  hands,  he  feels  it  his  duty  to  say, 
"Caveat  Emptor."  My  dear  Sir,  shall  I  not  pity  the  poor 
man  on  the  borders  of  fourscore,  who  could  write  such  a 
criticism  after  having  written  a  poem  called  "Calvary"? 
Alas  !  for  poor  human  nature,  that  he  has  not  forgiven,  at 
the  end  of  thirty  years,  that  in  my  gay  and  youthful  days 
a  tragedy33  of  mine  was  preferred  to  one  of  his  which 
perhaps  better  deserved  success.'34 

Still  angry  two  months  later,  Mrs.  More  wrote  Sir 

William  Pepys:35  'My  early  foe  has  kept  alive  all 

that  rancour  which  he  exerted  against  me  thirty  years  ago, 
because  "Percy,"  with  perhaps  less  merit,  had  more  suc- 
cess than  the  "Battle  of  Hastings."  Though  I  am  not 
blind  to  the  faults  of  my  own  book,  and  have  always 
received  just  criticism  thankfully,  and  adopted  it  uni- 
formly, yet  when  "Coelebs"  is  accused  of  a  design  to 
overturn  the  Church,  I  cannot  but  smile ;  and  I  own  I  felt 
the  sale  of  ten  large  impressions  in  the  first  six  months 
(twelve  are  now  gone)  as  a  full  consolation  for  the 
barbed  arrows  of  Mr.  S —  and  Mr.  C — ,'36 

It   is   quite   possible  that   Cumberland,   with  his   stiff 

33  Percy  was  acted  at  the  Haymarket  on  July  6,  1780. 

34  Mrs.  Hannah  More  to  William  Gray,  August  14,  1809.     See  Prior, 
Life  of  Goldsmith,  1.399,  foot-note. 

35  Cumberland  held  Sir  William  Pepys  in  high  esteem.     Pepys  revised 
part  of  the  Memoirs. 

36  Memoirs   of  the  Life  and  Correspondence   of  Mrs.  Hannah  More, 
2.168. 


28o  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

orthodoxy,    sincerely   thought    Coelebs   immoral,    rather 
than  that  he  remembered  the  incident  of  Percy.37 

But  between  Cumberland  and  other  nineteenth  cen- 
tury poets  we  find  the  kindliest  regard.  'I  am  going,' 
Thomas  Moore  writes  his  mother,  'to  dine  third  to 
Rogers  and  Cumberland:  a  good  poetical  step-ladder 
we  make — the  former  is  past  forty  and  the  latter  past 
seventy.'38  It  is  a  natural  touch  to  hear  Cumberland 
say:  'It  must  be  confessed  the  Muse  of  Mr.  Moore 
is  by  no  means  pure,  and  he  is  a  writer  of  love-songs 
much  too  highly  coloured.'  But  this,  Cumberland 
says  indulgently,  is  not  'purposed  mischief,'  and  adds: 
'That  he  can  write  gravely,  solidly  and  sublimely  no 
critic,  who  has  read  his  volume,39  will  deny.'  Moore's 
pleasure  at  this  praise  is  apparent  in  a  number  of  letters: 
'Old  Cumberland,'  he  again  writes  his  mother,  'has 
devoted  a  page  of  his  Memoirs  in  the  second  edition  to 
me,  which  pleases  me  more  than  I  can  tell  you.  What 
he  says  is  so  cordial,  considerate,  and  respectful,  and 
he  holds  such  a  high  and  veteran  rank  in  literature.'40 
Moore  wished  a  personal  acknowledgment  to  be  made 
to  Cumberland,  and  wrote  to  Miss  Godfrey :  'Have  you 
met  with  old  Cumberland's  second  edition?  He  has 
spoken  of  me  in  a  way  that  I  feel  very  grateful  for,  and 
if  you  ever  see  him  I  wish  you  would  tell  him  so.'41  A 
letter  from  this  lady  written  three  months  later  has  a 

37  The   biographers   of   Hannah  More  think  differently:  'One   of  two 
dramatists  who  were  so  tormented  with  envy  at  Hannah's  success  was 
Richard  Cumberland.'     Meakin,  Hannah  More,  106. 

38  Memoirs,  Journal,  and  Correspondence  of  Thomas  Moore,  Russell 
ed.,  1.186. 

39  A  metrical  translation  of  Anacreon  done  by  Moore  while  at  college 
and  published  in  London  in  1799. 

40  Memoirs,  Journal,  and  Correspondence  of  Thomas  Moore,  Russell 
ed.,  1.220. 

.,  1.221. 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  281 

vivid  picture  of  Cumberland:  'I  forgot  to  tell  you  in  my 
last  that  I  saw  Cumberland  at  Tunbridge,  and  I  took  an 
opportunity  of  mentioning  to  him  how  much  you  were 
obliged  by  the  manner  in  which  he  had  spoken  of  you  in 
his  book.  So  he  smiled  and  panted,  put  his  head  on  one 
side,  and  said  how  happy  he  was — that  you  were  quite 
charming:  "He  has  more  talents  than  any  of  them;  I 
was  obliged  to  admit  his  faults  to  obtain  credit  for  what 
I  said  of  his  excellences,  otherwise  praise  would  have 
been  injudicious  and  useless."  I  asked  him  if  Rogers  had 
not  told  him,  as  I  begged  he  would,  how  flattered  you 
felt  upon  the  occasion;  and  his  answer  was,  "He  be 
hanged;  he  never  told  me  one  word  about  it."  '42  Cum- 
berland's esteem  for  Moore  was  lasting;  and  in  1809 
Rogers  wrote  the  poet:  'Cumberland  dined  with  me 
yesterday.  .  .  .  He  took  up  a  volume  of  your  Anacreon 
that  was  lying  on  the  table,  and  spoke  of  you,  as  he  always 
does,  in  the  warmest  terms.'43 

Cumberland  and  Rogers  became  devoted  friends.  A 
biographer  of  the  latter,  testifying  to  the  friendship  be- 
tween them,  says  reminiscently :  'Yet  another  and  still 
older  friend,  a  frequent  visitor  at  Rogers's  house,  was 
Richard  Cumberland.  ...  In  his  earlier  days  Rogers 
had  seen  much  of  Cumberland,  and  learned  much  from 
him.'43  Cumberland's  conversation,  always  unusual,  was 
now  enriched  by  the  experience  of  a  long  life;  in  spite  of 
its  occasional  'sub-acidity'  it  was  everywhere  welcomed. 
Mr.  Hewson  Clarke,  a  partner  of  Cumberland's  in  The 
London  Review,  has  left  his  impressions  of  the  drama- 
tist's powers  of  speech.  'He  was  not  peculiarly  distin- 
guished for  the  profundity  of  his  detailed  observations  or 

42  Memoirs,  Journal,  and  Correspondence  of   Thomas  Moore,  Russell 
ed.,  8.66. 

43  Clayden,  Rogers  and  his  Contemporaries,  1.75. 


282  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

the  brilliancy  of  his  occasional  repartees;  to  warm  or  ex- 
tended argument  he  had  an  invincible  aversion,  and  nature 
had  denied  him  the  polished  fluency  of  his  friend  Sir 
James  Bland  Burges.  He  never  led  the  conversation  of 
his  social  circle,  or  sustained  its  vigour  by  the  animation 
of  his  influence.  Yet,  his  casual  remarks,  when  they  were 
not  distinguished  by  acuteness  or  brilliance,  were  charac- 
terized by  that  terse  felicity  of  expression  which  consti- 
tutes the  chief  excellence  of  his  Memoirs.'44 

It  was  Cumberland's  habit  to  dine  at  Billy's  with 
Rogers  and  other  literary  friends.  Here  he  entertained 
the  company  with  stories  of  Johnson,  Goldsmith,  and 
their  age,  but  especially  loved  to  tell  the  anecdotes  of 
Bentley,  of  his  tenderness  towards  children,  and  of  his 
regret  that  his  own  work  was  not  creative.45 

An  extract  from  Rogers's  Diary  describes  at  length  one 
of  these  dinners.  Tweddell46  among  other  things  had 
said  if  he  had  a  new  comedy  he  should  choose  to  sit  in  the 
pit.  *  uNo,"  said  Cumberland,  "sit  in  the  green-room, 
and  now  and  then  take  a  peep  between  the  scenes  to  feel 
the  pulse  of  the  house.  If  it  is  in  a  good  humour,  well; 
if  not — why,  take  a  walk!"  '47 

Cumberland  still  had  the  power  of  piquing  his  acquaint- 
ances, and  this  particular  dinner  was  unfortunate.  'Parr,' 
says  Rogers,  'was  afterwards  in  a  rage  with  Cumberland. 
"Why  did  Dilly  ask  me  to  meet  such  a  scoundrel?  He 
should  tell  me  whom  I  am  to  meet  next  time.  To  tell 
Priestley48  that  to  attack  him  was  to  attack  philosophy, 
and  when  his  back  was  turned  to  abuse  him  as  a  fire  brand, 

44  Mudford,  Life  of  Richard  Cumberland,  596. 

45  These  stories  are  told  in  the  Memoirs,  1.19-20. 
48  John  Tweddell,  the  classical  scholar. 

47  Clayden,  Early  Life  of  Samuel  Rogers,  213. 

48  Joseph  Priestley,  the  theologian,  of  whom  Huxley  said:  'He  charmed 
away  the  bitterest  prejudices  in  personal  intercourse.' 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  283 

an  innovator,  and  a  disturber!  Did  the  fellow  think  I 
should  forget  his  words?  And  then  to  bring  up  his  Epic 
poem.  How  could  I  tell  it  was  his?  I  might  have  found 
fault  with  every  line  of  it."  '49 

These  sound  like  genuine  echoes  of  'the  choleric  man.' 
Parr's  wrath  was  still  blazing  when,  a  few  days  later,  he 
met  William  Maltby.50  'Only  to  think,'  he  cried,  'of  Mr. 
Cumberland,  that  he  should  have  presumed  to  talk  before 
me,  before  me,  sir,  in  such  terms  of  my  friend  Dr. 
Priestley.'51 

Few  wished  more  than  Cumberland  to  be  of  the  great, 
and  few  suffered  more  at  their  hands.  His  experiences 
with  Lord  Halifax  and  Lord  North  have  a  faint  echo  in 
an  incident  involving  Lord  Lansdowne  and  Lord  Holland. 
Rogers  says  that  these  two  'having  expressed  a  wish  to 
be  introduced  to  Cumberland,'  the  banker-poet  invited  all 
three  to  dine  with  him.  'It  happened,  however,  that  the 
two  lords  paid  little  or  no  attention  to  Cumberland 
(though  he  said  several  very  good  things), — scarcely 
speaking  to  him  the  whole  time:  something  had  occurred 
in  the  House  which  occupied  all  their  thoughts  and  they 
retired  to  a  window  and  discussed  it.'52 

In  spite  of  his  foibles,  Rogers  found  Cumberland  'a 
most  agreeable  companion,  and  a  very  entertaining  con- 
verser.'  It  was  apparently  his  wont  to  let  Cumberland 
parade  the  glories  of  the  past:  'His  theatrical  anecdotes,' 
says  Rogers,  'were  related  with  infinite  spirit  and  humour; 
his  description  of  Mrs.  Siddons  coming  off  the  stage  in 
the  full  flush  of  triumph,  and  walking  up  to  the  mirror  to 

49  Clayden,  Early  Life  of  Samuel  Rogers,  213. 

50  The  bibliographer.     In  1809  Maltby  succeeded  Person  as  principal 
librarian  of  The  London  Institution. 

51  Dyce,  Porsoniana,  337.    See  Barker,  Literary  Anecdotes,  1.63. 

52  Recollections  of  the  Table  Talk  of  Samuel  Rogers,  Dyce  ed.,  139. 


284  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

survey  herself  was  admirable.'  Rogers  loved  the  out- 
worn gossip  of  the  stage.  He  records  that  Cumberland 
'said  the  three  finest  pieces  of  acting  he  had  ever  wit- 
nessed were  Garrick's  Lear,  Henderson's  Falstaff,  and 
Cooke's  lago.'53 

Cumberland's  patronage  of  Rogers  and  Moore  was 
extended  to  James  and  Horace  Smith.  The  latter  in  his 
essay,  A  Graybeard's  Gossip  about  his  Literary  Acquaint- 
ance™ has  given  an  account  of  Cumberland's  influence 
upon  him.  At  the  time  of  his  meeting  with  the  dramatist 
in  i8o5,55  Smith  was  a  clerk  in  a  counting-house,  but  with 
thoughts  flying  disobediently  to  light  literature  and  the 
drama.  An  admirer  of  Cumberland,  Smith  was  dis- 
gusted with  the  worthlessness  of  the  plays  of  other  writers 
then  occupying  the  stage.  'I  sat  down/  he  says,  'one 
night,  indignation  being  my  muse,  and  composed  a  short 
poem,  lamenting  the  decay  of  public  taste,  and  the  en- 
couragement given  to  dumb  shows,  to  the  neglect  of  such 
sterling  productions  as  the  "West  Indian,"  "The  Jew," 
"First  Love,"  "The  Wheel  of  Fortune,"  &c.,  to  the 
author  of  which  comedies  I  respectfully  dedicated  my 
effusion,  and  after  having  subscribed  my  name  and  ad- 
dress, forwarded  it  to  him  by  the  post.'56 

Smith  on  his  high  stool  in  the  old  counting-house  had 
forgotten  the  incident,  when  the  sequel  came:  'All  were 
busily  occupied;  not  a  sound  was  heard  except  the  in- 
cessant scratching  of  quill  pens  upon  coarse  paper,  when 
the  door  opened,  and  a  person  entered,  whose  appearance 

53  Recollections  of  the  Table  Talk  of  Samuel  Rogers,  Dyce  ed.,  138. 

54  The  New. Monthly  Magazine,  1847,  1.303,  515;  2.38,   137,  290,  461. 
These  essays  were  printed   anonymously,  but  were  probably  written  by 
Horace  Smith. 

55  Beavan,  James  and  Horace  Smith,  98. 

56  The  New  Monthly  Magazine,  1847,  1.364-5. 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  285 

gave  instant  assurance  that  he  belonged  not  to  the 
shippers,  brokers,  and  agents,  or  even  to  any  of  the 
higher  commercial  classes  of  the  city.  It  was  an  old 
gentleman  of  distinguished  appearance,  whose  somewhat 
large  and  profusely  powdered  head  was  flanked  with 
cannon  curls,  and  endorsed  writh  a  substantial  pig-tail;  his 
corbeau-coloured  suit  was  of  antique  cut,  and  he  bore  a 
gold-headed  cane.  The  grey  brows  gave  a  dullish  ex- 
pression to  his  eyes,  the  nose  prominent  and  well-shaped, 
was  more  than  usually  distant  from  the  somewhat  com- 
pressed mouth,  which  relaxed  into  a  smile  of  the  blandest 
courtesy  as  he  peered  round  the  room,  and  said,  in  a 
voice  of  winning  suavity — 5T 

'"Mr.-      -at  home?" 

uWe  have  two  of  that  name,"  replied  the  nearest 
clerk,  "which  of  them  do  you  want?" 

'With  a  strange  deficiency  of  tact  which,  as  I  after- 
wards discovered,  formed  one  of  his  characteristics,  the 
visitant  answered — 

'  "I  want  Mr.  ,  the  poet."  '58  Shame  and  con- 
fusion reigned  in  the  counting-house. 

When  Smith  had  dragged  Cumberland  aside  the  latter 
regarded  his  admirer.  '  "What!"  he  exclaimed,  with  a 
look  of  astonishment  which,  if  not  really  felt,  was  ex- 
ceedingly well  feigned,  "so  young,  and  yet  the  writer  of 
those  beautiful  verses!" 

'On  my  owning  the  soft  impeachment,  he  overwhelmed 
me  with  a  profusion  of  embraces,  compliments,  and 
thanks,  concluding  with  a  glowing  eulogism.  .  .  ,'59 

With  this  christening  the  friendship  continued  firm  till 

57  Sir  Egerton  Brydges's  description  of  Cumberland's  personal  appear- 
ance is  very  like  Smith's. 

58  The  New  Monthly  Magazine,  1847,  1.304-5. 

59  I bid.,  1.304-5. 


286  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Cumberland's  death.  Smith  has  many  reminiscences  of 
Cumberland.  The  two  were  associated  in  the  production 
of  the  weekly  newspaper,  Pic-Nic,  founded  in  1802  by 
Colonel  Greville  to  vindicate  certain  theatrical  entertain- 
ments, and  to  check  slander  of  the  aristocracy.  The  con- 
tributors numbered  Cumberland,  Sir  James  Bland  Burges, 
Monsieur  Peltier,  Mr.  Croker,60  James  and  Horace 
Smith,61  and  Mr.  Combe,  the  editor  of  the  paper. 

The  board  was  soon  torn  by  schisms.  Colonel  Gre- 
ville's  papers  were  too  frivolous,  Burges's  were  too  dull, 
and  Cumberland  thought  badly  of  both.  At  one  of  the 
Thursday  meetings  in  Piccadilly,  Greville  discharged  the 
corps  of  contributors,  and  announced  the  election  of  no 
less  a  person  than  John  Wilson  Croker.  'Cumberland, 
buttoning  up  his  coat,  preserved  a  sullen  silence,  until  he 
had  left  the  room,  when  Greville  said  to  him, 

1  "Well,  what  think  you  of  my  new  friend?  He  talks  a 
good  deal,  I  must  confess,  but  he  talks  well." 

*  "Half  of  that  is  true,"  replied  the  dramatist,  laying  a 
malicious  emphasis  on  the  first  word;  after  which  he 
finished  the  fastening  of  his  coat,  with  vehement  twitches 
that  threatened  to  tear  off  the  buttons,  twisted  a  comforter 
hastily  round  his  throat,  put  on  his  broad-brimmed  hat, 
pulled  it  over  his  eyes,  and  departed  in  dudgeon.'62 

Pic-Nic,  though  newly  named  The  Cabinet,  ceased  to 
be  in  the  fall  of  1803. 

Another  story  told  by  Smith  of  Cumberland's  petulance 
is  that  of  his  call  upon  the  accounting  firm  of  Boddington 

60  John  Wilson  Croker,  later  Secretary  of  the  Admiralty  and  a  dis- 
tinguished writer.     He  says  that  he  knew  Cumberland  well  during  the 
last  years  of  the  latter's  life. 

61  See   Beavan,   James   and  Horace   Smith.     See    Smith,    Comic  Mis- 
cellanies, the  poem,  'In  Private  Theatricals.' 

62  The  New  Monthly  Magazine,  1847,  1.516. 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  287 

and  Sharpe.63  'As  his  object,'  Smith  relates,  'was  to 
borrow  money  upon  a  Bill  of  Exchange,  I  did  not  accom- 
pany him  into  the  house,  but  awaited  his  return  in  Fen- 
church-street,  where  he  presently  joined  me,  evidently  in 
high  dudgeon,  buttoning  up  his  coat  with  nervous  irrita- 
tion, and  muttering  between  his  clenched  teeth,  "Shabby 
Sharpe !"— "Stingy  Sharpe !"— "Close-fisted  Sharpe  1" 
winding  up  his  abusive  epithets  with  the  loud  and  vehe- 
ment expectoration  of  the  words,  "Hatter  Sharpe!"'64 
After  Cumberland's  ire  had  abated,  Smith  discovered  that 
Sharpe,  who  had  dared  to  refuse  the  loan,  had  once  been 
a  hatter! 

This  Cumberland  considered  a  bitter  gibe,  for  family 
pride  and  some  attention  from  the  great  had  stiffened 
overmuch  his  sense  of  decorum  and  place.  Smith  found 
that  he  was  not  'insensible  of  his  dignity  as  major-com- 
mandant of  the  volunteer  infantry  at  Tunbridge  Wells, 
of  whose  attachment  to  his  person,  and  of  the  handsome 
sword  they  presented  him,  he  loved  to  discourse  with  a 
sensibility  that  sometimes  bordered  upon  the  mawkish.'65 
An  example  of  the  burden  of  propriety  which  he  carried 
occurs  in  a  grave  story  connected  with  the  duel  between 
Captain  Macnamara  and  Colonel  Montgomery.06  'When 
Cumberland  was  told  that  the  catastrophe  had  for  several 
days  alienated  the  senses  of  a  Mrs.  Biggin,  who  was 
understood  to  be  attached  to  the  colonel,  he  replied,  "Ha ! 
very  sad,  very  sad!  but  this  public  association  of  her  name 
with  his,  will  not,  I  fear,  add  much  to  her  reputation;  and, 
besides,  the  world  cannot  be  expected  to  sympathise  too 
deeply  with  a  lady  who  has  given  her  name  to  a  coffee- 

83  Richard  Sharpe,  well  known  as  'Conversation  Sharpe.' 

64  The  New  Monthly  Magazine,  1847,  1.516. 

65  See  Memoirs,  2.334. 

68  A  famous  incident  of  the  time. 


288  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

strainer."  '6T  This  last  seems  a  bit  of  excellent  irony,  but 
was  intended  by  Cumberland  as  a  serious  comment  upon 
the  sympathies  of  society. 

Of  the  many  hobbies  of  these  years  one  was  Cumber- 
land's rage  against  the  defrauding  of  authors  by  the  book- 
sellers. Upon  this  subject  Cumberland,  usually  coolly 
sarcastic,  always  spoke  vehemently.  Smith  depicts  Cum- 
berland's rage  at  a  wealthy  bookseller,  one  of  the  'ruth- 
less fellows'  who  'drink  out  of  the  skulls  of  their  best 
friends.' 

'  "But  they  cannot  rob  you  of  your  laurels,"  I  [Smith] 
remarked. 

'  "Oh,  no !"  replied  my  companion,  bitterly;  "they  allow 
their  victim  to  wear  a  chaplet  when  they  sacrifice  him." 
Cumberland  went  so  far  as  to  try  to  form  an  association 
to  defeat  the  booksellers.     Circulars  were  sent  to  leading 
writers,  a  meeting  was  called,  but  it  all  availed  nothing. 

Smith  noted  also  Cumberland's  hatred  of  the  French 
which  had  been  accumulating  for  three-quarters  of  a 
century.  At  a  dinner  where  French  cookery  was  served, 
"we  were  all  too  John  Bullish,'  says  Smith,  'to  find  any 
thing  palatable  upon  the  table,  but  our  most  patriotic 
abhorrence  was  reserved  for  an  unfortunate  fricandeau, 
which,  as  one  of  the  party  declared,  was  only  fit  to  be 
given  to  a  dog.  "A  dog,  sir,"  exclaimed  Cumberland, 

67  The  New  Monthly  Magazine,  1847,  1.518.     Cumberland's  pleasure  at 
the  marriage  of  his  daughter  to  Edward  Bentinck  was  well  known.     A 
story  existed  of  'another  whose  son  or  daughter  had  also  entered  a  noble 
family  meeting  [Cumberland]  at  a  dinner-party,  and  mutually  entertain- 
ing one  another  with  inquiries  about  my  lord  and  my  lady  and  anecdotes 
of  the   same   until   the   patience  of   everybody  was   exhausted.' — Temple 
Bar  for   June,    1879.      'Dr.   Bentley's   grandson,'    says    The    Gentleman's 
Magazine  for  November,  1779,  'is  a  scholar  but  still  more  desirious  of 
being  reckoned  a  person  of  fashion.' 

68  Ibid.,  1.520-21. 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  289 

pushing  away  his  plate  with  a  look  of  infinite  disgust, 
unot  even  fit  for  that,  unless  it  were  a  French  dog!" 

What  Scott  calls  Cumberland's  'sub-acidity'  of  temper 
appears  in  an  anecdote  of  his  residence  at  Ramsgate. 
'He  had  two  sister  neighbors,  whose  censorious  tongues 
had  rendered  them  rather  unpopular.  At  some  public 
meeting,  Cumberland  happened  to  be  seated  next  to  one 
of  them,  and,  on  her  rising  to  depart,  offered  to  put  on 
her  shawl,  observing  at  the  same  time,  for  he  rarely  lost 
an  opportunity  of  paying  a  compliment,  that  it  was  almost 
a  sin  to  hide  such  shoulders. 

*  "Oh!"  said  the  lady,  with  a  smirk;  "my  sister  and  I, 
you  know,  are  famous  for  the  beauty  of  our  backs." 

*  "Ha !  that  is  the  reason,  I  suppose,  why  your  friends 
are  always  so  glad  to  see  them,"  sneered  the  dramatist, 
as  soon  as  the  party  was  out  of  ear-shot.'70 

Smith  speaks  of  Cumberland's  fondness  for  anecdote,71 
and  describes  his  enthusiasms  for  gifted  young  men.  At 
one  time  he  was  begging  everyone  to  go  to  the  Hay- 
market  to  see  Rae72  as  Mortimer  in  The  Iron  Chest,73 
and  at  another  his  zeal  centered  in  Smith  himself.  In  a 
gathering  where  Love  for  Love  was  mentioned,  someone 
said,  'When  will  the  days  of  Congreve  return?'  'Cum- 
berland,' Smith  says,  'pointed  to  me,  and  exclaimed  with 
an  air  of  perfect  conviction, — "When  that  boy  writes  a 

69  The  New  Monthly  Magazine,  1847,  1.519. 
™lbid.,  2.42. 

71  Cumberland  delighted  particularly  to  tell  the  story  of  an  Irishman 
who  threw  himself  out  of  a  tree  for  joy  at  beholding  the  Bishop  of  Clon- 
fert.     See  Memoirs,  1.286,  and,  also,  pages  3-4  of  this  book. 

72  Alexander  Rae  made  his  first  appearance  on  the  stage  on  January 
28,  1806,  at  Bath  in  the  role  of  Hamlet.     Oxberry  says  he  was  the  best 
Romeo  he  had  ever  seen.     See  Memoirs,  2.383. 

73  A  play  by  George  Colman,  the  younger,   acted  at  Drury  Lane  on 
March  12,  1796. 


2QO  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

play."  On  that  hint  I  wrote;  what  boy  would  have  dis- 
believed the  prophecy?  My  comedy  met  a  cold  reception, 
lingered  for  a  few  nights,  was  then  withdrawn,  and  is  now 
utterly  forgotten.  Humbled  but  not  quite  discouraged,  I 
attempted  a  farce,  which  was  condemned  on  the  first 
night.  So  much  for  the  new  Congreve!'74 

Cumberland's  friendliness  for  Smith,  however,  was 
steady  and  of  practical  benefit.  James  and  Horace  were 
permitted  to  help  him  in  his  new  edition  of  Bell's  British 
Dramatists,  and  the  patron  cast  a  critical  eye  upon 
James's  work  upon  the  Latin  poet,  Horace.  Smith  tells 
this  story  of  his  tutelage :  'At  an  early  period  of  my 
acquaintance  with  Cumberland,  I  had  written  a  romance, 
which,  in  accordance  with  the  prevalent  taste,  abounded 
in  monks,  monsters,  horrors,  thunderings,  ghosts,  and 
trap-doors.  This  farrago  I  requested  him  to  peruse,  and 
give  me  his  opinion  as  to  the  propriety  of  its  publication. 
He  took  the  manuscript  to  Ramsgate,  where  he  told  me 
that  his  daughter,  Lady  Edward  Bentinck,  should  read  it 
to  him,  and  in  a  few  days  it  was  returned  to  me  with  an 
unfavourable  verdict,  softened  by  compliments  and  many 
encouragements  to  new  and  better  efforts.  On  my  telling 
him,  at  our  next  interview,  that  I  had  immediately  burnt 
it,  he  paid  me  the  equivocal  talent  of  saying;  "You  showed 
talent,  my  dear  boy,  in  writing  that  work,  but  you  have 
evinced  much  more  in  committing  it  to  the  flames."  '75 

74  The  New  Monthly  Magazine,  1847,  2.41.   One  object  of  Cumberland's 
enthusiasms  seems  to  have  been  Joseph  Blacket,  the  author  of  a  blank 
verse  poem,  remarkably  titled  The  Dying  Horse.    See  Blacket,  in  Diction- 
ary  of  National  Biography,   and    The   Gentleman's  Magazine,  October, 
1811. 

75  The  New  Monthly  Magazine,   1847,  2.42.     Smith  says  that  he   re- 
taliated for  Cumberland's  criticism  of  'diffuseness'  by  quoting  Cumber- 
land's poem  Pride  to  a  friend.     In  this   Cumberland  has  expanded  the 
phrase,  expcnde  Hannibalem,  into  twelve  lines  on  man's  mortality. 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  291 

Smith  thought  the  sketch  of  the  Abbe  Hussey  in  the 
Memoirs79  a  better  portrait  of  Cumberland  than  Sir  Fret- 
ful Plagiary.  Smith's  final  word  for  the  dramatist  has 
a  note  of  sincere  affection:  'Of  his  occasional  sarcasms, 
proof  has  been  afforded  .  .  .  but  as  his  blandness  and 
adulation  were  rather  the  result  of  courtly  and  diplomatic 
habits  than  of  any  intentional  hypocrisy,  so  do  I  firmly 
believe  that  his  bitterness — I  would  rather  call  it  his  mali- 
cious pleasantry — was  indulged  rather  to  point  a  jest  than 
to  vent  any  splenetic  feeling;  an  offence  only  amounting  to 
the  old  charge  against  men  of  wit,  that  they  are  apt  to 
love  their  joke  better  than  their  friend.'77 

From  the  time  of  Cumberland's  return  from  Spain  his 
life  had  been  clouded  by  poverty.  In  1781  he  had 
borrowed  heavily  from  George  Romney,  and  later  from 
Rogers.  Clayden,  the  biographer  of  Rogers,  tells  of 
Cumberland's  joy  at  their  kindness:  'Rogers  had  given 
him  some  pecuniary  assistance,  and  the  old  dramatist,  in 
writing  his  thanks,  finds  it  difficult  to  moderate  his  grati- 
tude. "Your  bounty  surprised  me,"  he  says;  "I  hurried 
back  on  discovering  its  amount,  resolved  for  the  moment 
to  entreat  you  to  moderate  your  benefaction."  On 
second  thoughts,  however,  he  kept  the  money,  lest  his 
motive  in  returning  it  should  be  misunderstood;  and  he 
declares  his  uniform  and  unalterable  esteem  and  love  for 
his  generous  friend.'78 

The  steady  outpouring  of  plays  between  1780  and 
1811  was  possible  only  to  a  literary  mill  like  Cumber- 

76  Memoirs,  2.60.    This  runs  in  part:  'He  wore  upon  his  countenance  a 
smile  sufficiently  seductive  for  common  purposes  and  cursory  acquaintance; 
his   address   was   smooth,   obsequious,   studiously  obliging,    and   at  times 
glowingly    heightened    into    an    impassioned    show    of    friendship    and 
affection.' 

77  The  New  Monthly  Magazine,  1847,  2.43. 

78  Early  Life  of  Samuel  Rogers,  246. 


RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 


land's,  but  the  impelling  force  was  largely  necessity. 
There  are  frequent  references  in  the  Memoirs  to  econ- 
omy, and  we  may  believe  the  cause  of  his  activity  to  have 
been  a  slender  exchequer.  This  pressure  continued  un- 
relieved until  the  dramatist's  death. 

Mrs.  Cumberland  had  died  soon  after  1800.  The 
exact  date  of  his  wife's  death  Cumberland  does  not 
mention,  contenting  himself  with  saying  that  it  occurred 
'some  time  after  the  death  of  his  eldest  son,  who  died  in 
Tobago.'  Her  demise  was  preceded  by  a  long  and 
heart-rending  illness.  In  the  Memoirs  there  are  surpris- 
ingly few  references  to  Mrs.  Cumberland;  these,  how- 
ever, are  in  terms  of  warmest  affection.  There  is  no 
support  for  Mudford's  somewhat  malicious  story:  'They 
lived  happily  together  for  many  years,  though  I  have 
been  told,  by  a  friend  who  was  likely  to  be  well  informed, 
that  his  wife's  love  for  him  was  sometimes  displayed 
with  too  little  attention  to  his  liberty,  and  that  her  desire 
of  having  him  always  in  her  presence,  especially  during 
her  last  illness,  amounted  to  a  virtual  prohibition  of  his 
seeing  any  person  who  did  not  come  home  to  him.'79 

Patient  under  affliction  as  he  actually  was,  there  de- 
veloped in  Cumberland  an  undercurrent  of  sorrow  and 
bitterness  against  the  cause  of  his  trouble.  At  one  time 
he  likens  himself  to  'the  traveller  who,  wearied  by  the 
tediousness  of  the  way,  puts  four  horses  to  his  chaise  for 
the  concluding  stage.'80  At  another  he  composes  for  the 
eye  of  the  inexorable  Pitt  'a  short  and  modest  recital  of 
[his]  services  and  sufferings,'  and  prays  to  be  recom- 

79  Mudford,  Life  of  Richard  Cumberland,  130-1. 

80  Memoirs,  2.304. 

What  on  the  part  of  candour  shall  be  said, 

But  that  his  heart  was  stronger  than  his  head? 

But  that  advancing  to  a  fresh  attack, 

He  dropt,  and  'died  with  harness  on  his  back.'    Genest,  7.191. 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  293 

mended  'for  some  small  bounty  from  the  crown  in  alle- 
viation of  [his]  case.'  Lastly,  he  quiets  his  distress  with 
philosophy:  'Though  I  have  not  been  at  ease  in  my  cir- 
cumstances since  I  came  from  Spain,  and  probably  never 
shall,  I  do  not  regret  my  going  thither,  being  proudly 
conscious  of  having  done  my  duty,  and  that  I  can  look 
back  upon  no  period  of  my  past  life  with  a  clearer  self- 
acquittal  than  I  can  on  that.  I  am  past  all  hope  of  receiv- 
ing any  recompense  for  my  sacrifices,  and  I  have  accom- 
modated myself  of  those  privations,  which  the  circum- 
scription of  my  means  prescribes.  Though  in  my 
seventy-fifth  year  I  am  even  now  in  the  act  of  levying 
contributions  on  my  brains,  and  thanks  be  to  Providence, 
age  has  not  quite  exhausted  the  resource,  which  nature 
and  acquirement  have  endowed  me  with.' 

But  there  is  a  wearing  force  in  prolonged  sorrow  or 
injustice,  and  Cumberland  in  extreme  old  age  is  a  pathetic 
figure.  The  writing  of  the  Memoirs — a  sacrifice  of  pride 
— was  another  effort  to  ward  off  poverty.  Biographia 
Dramatica  recognizes  his  situation  when  it  tells  'of  his 
intention  in  1809  to  publish  a  4to  volume  of  his  dramas, 
which,  we  are  sorry  to  say,  because  it  implies  a  want  of 
encouragement,  has  not  yet  appeared,'  and  adds:  'That 
a  man  of  such  learning,  of  such  versatility  of  literary 
talent,  such  unquestionable  genius,  and  such  sound 
morality,  should  in  the  vale  of  years,  feel  the  want  of 
what  he  has  lost  by  his  exertions  for  the  public  good, 
must  to  every  feeling  mind,  be  a  subject  of  keen  regret. 

'81 

Cumberland's  necessity  was  common  talk  during  the 

81  Biographia  Dramatica,  1.158.  The  edition  referred  to,  although 
advertised  in  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  July,  1809,  did  not  appear 
during  Cumberland's  lifetime.  In  her  'Advertisement  to  the  Reader'  in 
the  Posthumous  Dramatick  Works,  Cumberland's  daughter,  Mrs.  Jansen, 


294  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

last  years  of  his  life.  In  reviewing  the  Memoirs,  The 
British  Critic  for  May,  1806,  says:  'Far  be  from  us  the 
invidious  task  of  endeavouring  to  spy  out  the  defects,  and 
ridicule  the  foibles  of  an  author,  who  at  seventy-two 
declares  himself  obliged  to  undertake  the  task  of  describ- 
ing himself,  for  the  sake  of  an  emolument  offered  by  a 
bookseller.'  Two  years  later,  in  August,  1811,  in  a 
critique  of  Retrospection  the  same  paper  says:  'The  most 
melancholy  part  of  this  consideration  is,  that  these  effu- 
sions [Retrospection  and  the  Memoirs']  were  not,  in 
either  case  voluntary.  They  were  forced  from  [Cum- 
berland] by  the  pressure  of  necessity,  and  a  necessity, 
the  severest  part  of  which  appears  to  have  been  brought 
with  cruelty  upon  him.'  A  mysterious  'note'  follows,  sug- 
gesting the  secrets  of  Cumberland's  connections  with  the 
government  which  'delicacy'  forbade  the  reviewer  to 
reveal :  'We  dare  not  tell  the  tale,  lest  we  should  be  mis- 
taken in  any  of  the  circumstances;  but,  if  it  was  as  we 
heard  it  from  an  intimate  friend  of  the  sufferer,  there 
must  have  been,  somewhere,  great  want  of  feeling.' 

The  London  Examiner  of  May  8,  1808,  after  censur- 
ing The  Jew  of  Mogadore,  says :  'Upon  the  whole,  the 
lovers  of  literature  will  always  remember  with  respect 
the  earlier  classical  taste  of  Mr.  CUMBERLAND,  but  they 
cannot  help  lamenting  that  his  pen  still  outlives  his  genius. 
If  this  tenaciousness  of  quill  proceeds  from  old  age,  they 
would  remind  him  of  the  continued  respect  but  diminished 
pleasure  of  the  public,  and  would  hope  that  his  gratitude 
and  his  good  sense  might  at  length  show  him  the  propriety 

writes:  'These  Dramas,  which  are  now  presented  to  the  public,  were 
originally  intended-by  my  late  beloved  Father,  as  a  bequest  to  me,  together 
with  his  other  posthumous  works ;  but  the  unfortunate  circumstances, 
which  clouded  the  latter  years  of  his  life,  induced  him  to  yield  to  the 
opinion  of  many  of  his  friends,  who  had  frequently  urged  him,  to  resort 
to  the  publication  of  them  by  subscription.' 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  295 

of  closing  his  inkstand.  If  it  proceeds  from  necessity,  as 
I  am  much  inclined  to  fear,  it  surely  becomes  the  British 
Government  to  rescue  from  degradation  a  learned  and 
liberal  gentleman,  one  who  has  suffered  in  their  employ- 
ment, and  thrown  a  grace  upon  the  literature  of  his 
country.  .  .  . ' 

A  review  of  The  Widow's  Only  Son  indicates  plainly 
Cumberland's  humiliating  position.  Speaking  of  him  as 
a  writer  The  London  Examiner  of  June  10,  1810,  says: 
'The  more  apparent,  however,  this  truth,  the  more 
lamentable  is  it,  that  a  man  of  genius  and  virtue  should 
be  reduced  in  his  old  age  to  expedients  so  mortifying, — 
for,  from  what  is  reported  in  the  town,  and  indeed  from 
a  bitter  passage  or  two  in  the  present  drama  on  the 
miseries  of  writing  for  bread,  this  would  actually  appear 
to  be  the  case.  The  present  Administration  exhibits 
nothing  that  is  not  altogether  despicable  in  point  of  feel- 
ing as  well  as  policy;  but  it  is  a  disgrace  to  all  the  Admin- 
istrations for  the  last  twenty  years,  that  the  Author  of 
the  Observer,  the  West  Indian,  and  other  estimable  pro- 
ductions, should  have  been  thus  neglected.  He  has  con- 
tributed to  adorn  our  literature,  and  we  should  be  grate- 
ful for  the  honour:  he  has  helped  to  encourage  us  in  the 
love  of  virtue,  and  we  should  be  grateful  for  the  service: 
— he  is  old,  and  what  further  claim  can  he  want  upon  our 
respect — upon  our  feelings — upon  our  very  shame.5 

'He  is  greatly  changed  .  .  .  '82  Rogers  wrote  Moore, 
toward  the  end  of  Cumberland's  life.  No  one  can  fail  to 
observe  the  difference  in  tone  of  Cumberland's  last  writ- 
ings. His  grief  is  plain  enough  in  John  De  Lancaster, 
in  which  novel  Cumberland  shows  us  his  despondency 
without  disguise.  'I  am,'  he  says  wearily,  'ill  at  these 

82  Memoirs,  Journal,  and  Correspondence  of  Thomas  Moore,  Russell 
ed.,  8.80. 


RICPIARD  CUMBERLAND 


descriptions  ;  I  confess  it.  Seventy  years  and  seven,  with 
clouds  that  hang  upon  my  setting  sun,  will  chill  the  brain 
that  should  devise  scenes  and  descriptions  warm  with 
youthful  love.  .  .  .  '83 

One  cause  of  grief  Cumberland  dilates  upon  at  some 
length  in  the  Memoirs.  'Whilst  I  write  this,  my  Grand- 
son, a  brave  youth,  of  six  years  service  in  the  Royal  Navy, 
born,  as  I  vainly  hoped,  to  grace  my  name,  and  recom- 
pense the  cares  that  I  bestowed  upon  his  education,  lies 
(as  'twere  before  me)  dead,  and  as  yet  unburied;  whilst 
I  not  only  mourn  his  loss,  but  feel  his  wrongs,  of  which 
the  World  must  hear,  if  the  appeal  that  he  had  made  to 
Justice  is  cut  short  by  his  untimely  death.'  'Where  then,' 
he  exclaims,  'can  a  heart-wounded  man,  like  me,  find  com- 
fort but  with  that  beloved  Daughter  to  whom  I  gave  the 
Memoirs  of  my  Life?'  The  complaint  continues,  and 
ends  in  a  pitiable  strain  of  weakness.  After  declaring 
that  he  writes  these  pages  for  the  third  time  with  his  own 
hand,  and  assuring  the  reader  of  their  virtue,  he  once 
more  defies  and  implores  his  old  enemies:  'The  Criticks 
are  most  cordially  welcome  to  every  thing  they  can  find 
about  me  as  an  Author.  However,  as  I  know  some  of 
them  to  be  fair  and  honourable  gentlemen,  I  hope  they 
will  recollect  how  often  I  have  been  useful  to  them  in  the 
sale  of  their  publications,  and  assist  me  now  with  their 
good  word  in  the  circulation  of  De  Lancaster.'84  Horace 
Smith  last  saw  Cumberland  'altered  and  attenuated,  his 
white  hair  hanging  over  his  ears  in  thin  flakes,  his  figure 
stooping,  his  countenance  haggard.'85 

83  John  De  Lancaster,  3.105-7. 

84  Ibid.,  3.105-7.  ' 

85  Poetical    Works   of   Horace   Smith   and  James   Smith,   Sargent   ed., 
'Biographical  Memoir,'   11.     See   The   Gentleman's  Magazine  for  April, 
1809. 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  297 

Cumberland's  life  was  not  lacking  in  dramatic  quality, 
and  his  last  days  were  dignified  by  an  impressive  fare- 
well to  the  world  in  which  he  had  lived  for  so  many  years. 
A  very  short  time  before  his  death  he  wrote  Retrospec- 
tion, a  poem  which  'may  literally  be  called  the  last  words 
of  Cumberland,'  and  which  glows  with  deep  and  sincere 
emotion : 

LINES 

Written  by  the  late  Mr.  CUMBERLAND 
a  short  time  before  his  Death. 

World,  I  have  known  thee  long,  and  now  the  hour 

When  I  must  part  from  thee  is  near  at  hand ; 

I  bore  thee  much  good  will,  and  many  a  time 

In  thy  fair  promises  reposed  more  trust 

Than  wiser  heads  and  colder  hearts  would  risque. 

Some  tokens  of  a  life,  not  wholly  pass'd 

In  selfish  strivings  or  ignoble  sloth, 

Haply  there  shall  be  found  when  I  am  gone, 

Which  may  dispose  thy  candour  to  discern 

Some  merit  in  my  zeal,  and  let  my  works 

Outlive  the  maker,  who  bequeaths  them  to  thee; 

For  well  I  know  where  our  perception  ends 

Thy  praise  begins,  and  few  there  be  who  weave 

Wreaths  for  the  Poet's  brow,  till  he  is  laid 

Low  in  his  narrow  dwelling  with  the  worm. 

On  May  7,  1811,  at  the  home  of  Henry  Fry,  to  whom 
he  had  been  warmly  attached  since  his  removal  to  Tun- 
bridge  Wells,  Cumberland  died.  Sir  James  Bland  Burges 
received  the  following  letter: 

Dear  Sir, 

I  trust  you  will  not  deem  it  a  liberty  I  take  in  informing  you  of 
the  death  of  our  poor  friend  Mr.  Cumberland,  who  died  at  my 


298  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

house  this  morning  a  quarter  before  nine  o'clock.  He  was  taken 
ill  last  Thursday  week.  The  day  before  I  never  knew  him  more 
cheerful  or  well.  He  was  perfectly  resigned  and  died  without  a 
groan.  He  was  sensible,  but  for  the  last  four  or  five  hours 
deprived  of  speech. 

I  am,  dear  Sir, 

Your  very  obedient,  humble  servant, 

HENRY  FRY.86 

On  May  14  a  long  procession87  took  its  way  from  the 
home  of  Cumberland  to  the  Collegiate  Church  of  St. 
Peter,  Westminster.  Cumberland  was  laid  in  the  Poets' 
Corner  in  Westminster  Abbey  not  far  from  the  grave  of 
Garrick.  The  funeral  oration  was  spoken  by  the  Dean  of 
Westminster,  the  school-fellow88  and  life-long  friend  of 
Cumberland.  'I  saw,'  says  Boaden,  'the  venerable  and 
tasteful  Dr.  Vincent  .  .  .  pronounce  his  affecting  tribute 
over  the  grave  of  Cumberland.'89 

Good  People:  the  person  you  see  now  deposited,  is  Richard 
Cumberland,  an  author  of  no  small  merit ;  his  writings  were  chiefly 
for  the  stage,  but  of  strict  moral  tendency;  they  were  not  without 
faults,  but  they  were  not  gross,  abounding  with  oaths  and  libidinous 
expressions,  as  I  am  shocked  to  observe  is  the  case  of  many  of  the 
present  day.  He  wrote  as  much  as  any  one;  few  wrote  better; 
and  his  work  will  be  held  in  the  highest  estimation  as  long  as  the 
English  language  will  be  understood.  He  considered  the  theatre 
a  school  for  moral  improvement,  and  his  remains  are  truly  worthy 
of  mingling  with  the  illustrious  dead  which  surround  us.  Read 
his  prose  subjects  on  divinity!  there  you  will  find  the  true  Chris- 

86  Letters  and  Correspondence  of  Sir  James  Bland  Surges,  321. 

87  The  London  Chronicle,  May  16,  1811. 

88  See  Memoirs,  1.68-9. 

"Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  John  Philip  Kemble,  368. 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  299 

tian  Spirit  of  the  man  who  trusted  in  our  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus 
Christ:  May  God  forgive  him  his  sins,  and  at  the  resurrection  of 
the  just  receive  him  into  everlasting  glory!90 

Cumberland  had  four  sons.  The  eldest,  Richard,91 
married  the  third  Earl  of  Buckinghamshire's  daughter, 
Albinia,  Lady  of  the  Bedchamber  to  the  Princess.92 
Richard  Cumberland  died  at  Tobago  where  he  had  gone 
for  employment.  George  Cumberland93  was  killed  at  the 
siege  of  Charleston,  on  the  first  day  that  he  was  appointed 
to  the  command  of  an  armed  vessel.  The  two  other  sons, 
Charles94  and  William,95  in  the  navy  and  army,  respect- 
ively, survived  Cumberland. 

An  excellent  picture  of  Cumberland's  three  daughters 
may  be  found  in  Fanny  Burney's  Diary.*6  Elizabeth 
Cumberland,  the  eldest,  also  achieved  a  marriage  of  rank. 

90  Mudford,  Life  of  Richard  Cumberland,  589-90,  The  European  Maga- 
zine for  May,  1811.    As  Hitchman  says,  this  oration  touched  unluckily  on 
the  most  vulnerable  point  in  Cumberland's  position   as  a  moral  writer. 
He  was  often  attacked  for  a  number  of  immoral  passages  in  his  novels, 
and  for  occasional  ones  in  the  plays.     Hitchman's  explanation  that  Dean 
Vincent  had   not   read   Cumberland   is  plausible.     Hitchman,  Eighteenth 
Century  Studies,  230-1. 

91  See  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  1.286. 

92  Cumberland   was   proud   of   this   marriage.      He   has   written    some 
fourteen    stanzas    upon    Lady    Cumberland.      Memoirs,    2.96-8.      Fanny 
Burney  met  the  lady  in  1798.    'Here  I  was  received  by  Lady  Rothes,  who 
presented  me  to  Lady  Albinia   Cumberland,  widow  of  Cumberland  the 
author's  only  son,  and  one  of  the  ladies  of  the  Princesses.     I  found  her  a 
peculiarly    pleasing    woman,    in    voice,    manner,    look,    and    behavior — ' 
Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  5.427.    According  to 
one  source  the  marriage  was  disapproved  of  by  the  lady's  family.    Letters 
of  Lady  Louisa  Stuart  to  Miss  Louisa  Clinton,  Letter  121,  foot-note. 

93  Memoirs,  1.400,  422. 

94  Ibid.,  1.400,  2.294. 

95 1  bid.,  1.400,  2.295,  306. 

96  Diary  and  Letters  of  Madame  D'Arblay,  Dobson  ed.,  1.286,  287-8, 
297. 


3oo  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Her  husband  was  Lord  Edward  Bentinck,  brother  to  the 
Duke  of  Portland.  'The  Duchess  of  Portland  was  much 
distressed  by  this  marriage,  but  with  her  usual  kindness 
and  good  sense  sent  afterwards  a  trunk  of  plain  house- 
hold linen  to  assist  the  commencement  of  Lady  Edward 
Bentinck's  housekeeping.'97  The  Observer  was  dedicated 
to  Elizabeth  Bentinck. 

Sophia,  the  second  daughter,  receives  scant  notice  in 
the  Memoirs,  as  does  her  husband,  William  Badcock.98 

Cumberland's  youngest  daughter,  Frances  Marianne, 
was  born  in  Spain.  Cumberland  dedicated  the  Memoirs 
to  her,  and  enjoined  her  to  publish  his  posthumous  works. 
His  fortune,  which  amounted  to  less  than  £450,  was  left 
to  her. 

Of  Cumberland's  nineteen  grandchildren,  Richard 
Francis  Cumberland  attained  the  greatest  distinction, 
becoming  aide-de-camp  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 

Cumberland's  death  made  little  noise  in  the  world. 
'May  7.  At  Mr.  Henry  Fry's  in  Bedford-place,  Russell- 
square  in  Both  year,  Richard  Cumberland,  esq.  a  char- 
acter of  long  and  very  distinguished  celebrity  in  the  re- 
publick  of  letters,'  so  runs  the  record  of  The  Gentleman's 
Magazine  for  June,  1811,  and  The  London  Chronicle 
of  May  9  regrets  the  loss  of  'a  profound  scholar  as  well 
as  an  able  writer  in  various  departments  of  literature  and 
a  poet  of  no  inferior  class.  .  .  .  He  might  altogether  be 
considered  as  a  distinguished  ornament  of  British  litera- 
ture. .  .  .'"  This  was  not  fame,  nor  have  the  years 

97  Life    and    Correspondence    of   Mrs.    Delaney,   Llanover    ed.,    6.124, 
foot-note.     One  of  Romney's  best-known  paintings  is  of  Elizabeth  Cum- 
berland.    Chamberlain,  George  Romney,  304. 

98  Memoirs,  2.339.    Mudford,  Life  of  Richard  Cumberland,  596. 

99  Other    accounts    of    Cumberland    written    early    in    the    nineteenth 
century  may  be  found  in  The  Literary  Panorama,  9.1070,  10.1249,  11.517, 
The  Anti- Jacobin  Review  for  January,  1815,  The  Gentleman's  Magazine 


THE  VETERAN  CUMBERLAND  301 

brought  it.  Verse,  novels,  essays,  and  plays, — all  have 
perished,  and  Richard  Cumberland  lives  only  in  the  few 
master  strokes  of  a  malicious  pen.  What  the  talent  and 
industry  of  Cumberland  could  not  effect  in  fifty  years  of 
effort,  the  careless  genius  of  Sheridan  won  for  him  in  a 
few  hours.  Sir  Fretful  Plagiary!  Who  that  has  seen, 
can  forget  him  ?  And  the  portrait  is,  superficially  at  least, 
just.  Cumberland's  enemies  were  right.  His  was  a 
nature  tortured  by  the  smaller  passions  of  mankind,  and 
worry,  egotism,  and  envy  had  taken  strong  root  in  his 
soul.  But  Sir  Fretful  is,  at  best,  a  half-truth,  and,  in 
ending,  the  friends  of  Cumberland  should  be  heard. 
'That,'  says  James  Smith,  'he  was  capable  of  a  sincere, 
firm  and  disinterested  friendship  I  can  testify;  and  for 
my  own  part,  whether  I  contemplate  Richard  Cumber- 
land as  a  scholar  and  an  eminent  man  of  letters,  as  a 
gentleman,  and  as  a  friend  whose  good  offices  were  un- 
remitted  from  the  time  of  our  first  acquaintance  until  the 
day  of  his  death,  I  can  never  recall  his  name  without  a 
feeling  of  almost  filial  regard  and  reverence.'100 

for  June,  1811,  and  October,  1811,  Blackwood's  Magazine  for  February, 
1826,  William  Beloc,  The  Sexagenarian,  222. 
100  The  New  Monthly  Magazine,  1847,  2.43. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS 

T  T  is  not  enough  to  depict  Cumberland's  personality. 
-*•  His  worth,  both  for  his  own  time  and  for  posterity, 
must  rest  upon  his  dramatic  achievement.  His  plays  were 
constantly  acted  during  the  last  quarter  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  and  many  found  a  place  on  the  stage  well  into 
the  nineteenth  century. 

Cumberland  in  his  Memoirs  [1807]  indexes  no  less 
than  thirty-eight  dramatic  pieces  written  by  himself.  To 
this  list  must  obviously  be  added  his  subsequent  produc- 
tions, from  I8O61  to  1811.  Genest  says  that  Cumber- 
land wrote  'about  35  regular  Plays,  4  Operas,  and  i 
Farce'2  besides  the  alterations,  making  a  total  of  forty- 
three  dramatic  productions.  Biographia  Dramatica 
credits  Cumberland  with  dramatic  compositions  of  various 
kinds  to  the  number  of  fifty-four.  No  one  of  these  cata- 
logues is  complete  or  exact,  and  later  historians  of  the 
drama,  owing  to  the  unknown  number  of  unacted  plays, 
have  been  content  to  quote  or  approximate  these  lists.3 

1  The  first,  and  unindexed,  edition  of  the  Memoirs  appeared  in  1806. 

2  Genest,  8.397. 

3  Ward,    in    The    Encyclopedia    Britannica,    in    numbering    the    plays 
relies  apparently  upon  Biographia  Dramatica,  for  he  says  that  Cumber- 
land's plays  'have  been  computed  to  amount  to  fifty-four.'    Leslie  Stephen, 
in  The  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  quotes  figures  from  the  same 
work,  though  accusing  it  of  inaccuracies.     An  excellent  analysis  of  senti- 
mental comedy  may  be  found  in  two  essays  by  Mr.  Osborn  Waterhouse, 
published  in  Anglia,  Vol.  30. 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS  303 

Several  plays  listed  separately  in  Biographia  Dramatica 
may  be  more  justly  regarded  as  revisions  of  earlier 
works.  Thus  The  Summer's  Tale,  and  the  two  plays 
called  Amelia  form  one  dramatic  piece;  The  Arab  is 
essentially  the  Alcanor  of  the  posthumous  works;  The 
School  for  Widows  is  but  a  revived  form  of  The  Country 
Attorney;  and  A  Word  for  Nature  appears  fourteen 
years  later  as  The  Passive  Husband.  Thus  the  list  in 
Biographia  Dramatica  may  be  reduced  to  forty-nine  dis- 
tinctly different  plays.  To  these  may  be  added  certainly 
one  posthumous  play  omitted  in  Biographia  Dramatica, 
The  Confession,  which  is  included  in  the  edition  of  Cum- 
berland's plays. 

It  is  possible  to  give,  then,  the  stage  history  of  fifty 
plays  written  by  Richard  Cumberland,  with  indications  of 
alterations  or  changed  titles.  Of  these  plays,  twelve 
were  printed  in  a  volume  called  the  Posthumous  Drama- 
tick  Works  of  Richard  Cumberland,  viz.,  The  Sybil,  or  the 
Elder  Brutus,  The  Walloons,  The  Confession,  The  Pas- 
sive Husband,  Torrendal,  Lovers'  Resolutions,  Alcanor, 
The  Eccentric  Lover,  Tiberius  in  Capreae,  The  Last  of 
the  Family,  Don  Pedro,  and  The  False  Demetrius.41 

Thirteen  plays,  among  the  weakest  written  by  Cum- 
berland, were,  in  all  likelihood,  never  printed,5  namely, 
The  Princess  of  Parma,  The  Election,  The  Bondman, 
The  Duke  of  Milan,  The  Widow  of  Delphi,  The  Coun- 
try Attorney,  The  Occasional  Prelude,  The  Armourer, 
The  Dependant,  The  Village  Fete,  The  Victory  and 
Death  of  Lord  Nelson,  The  Robber,  and  The  Widow's 
Only  Son.  The  following  plays  were  never  acted:  The 

4  This  play  is  mentioned  by  Ward  in  The  Encyclopedia  Britannica. 
6  Only  the  songs  of  The  ff^ido'w  of  Delphi  were  printed. 


304  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Banishment  of  Cicero,  The  Clouds,  The  False  Deme- 
trius /  Tiberius  in  Capreae,  Torrendal,  and  The  Confes- 
sion. 

Besides  these  fifty  plays,  there  may  be  attributed  to 
Cumberland,  upon  more  or  less  certain  authority,  three 
other  dramatic  pieces.7  These  three  plays  are:  i.  The 
Elders  f  which  was  acted  during  October,  1778,  at  Kel- 
marsh,  Northamptonshire.  The  Elders  was  a  farce  per- 
formed in  private  theatricals.  It  is  doubtfully  assigned 
to  Cumberland  by  The  Thespian  Dictionary.  2.  The 
Days  of  Geri.  This  play  is  included  in  a  list  of  Cumber- 
land's dramatic  pieces  by  Walter  Scott.9  It  is  seemingly 
not  mentioned  either  by  Genest,  by  Ward  in  The  Encyclo- 
pedia Britannica,  or  by  Biographia  Dramatica.  3.  Pala- 
mon  and  Arcite.  A  manuscript  copy  of  this  play,  said  to 
be  in  the  handwriting  of  Cumberland,  is  in  the  British 
Museum.10  No  mention  of  the  play  is  apparently  made 
by  Genest,  by  Ward  in  The  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  or 
by  Biographia  Dramatica. 

If  we  consider  fifty  plays  as  certainly  Cumberland's, 
twenty-six  may  be  regarded  as  comedies  of  the  sentimental 
type,  nine  as  tragedies,  seven  as  operas  or  musical  enter- 

6  The  acting  of  this  piece  was  prevented  by  an  altercation  between 
Cumberland  and  Sheridan. 

7  The   addition  of  the   separately  titled  plays,  with  the   three   others 
tentatively    assigned,    brings    Cumberland's    total    number    of    dramatic 
pieces  to  fifty-eight. 

8  The    Elders,    of    uncertain    authorship,    was    performed    at    Covent 
Garden  Theatre  on  April  21,  1780,  and  acted  four  times.     See  Genest, 
6.149-50.     Biographia  Dramatica   attributes,  with  some  doubt,  the  farce 
to  Henry  Man.    Whether  or  not  this  is  Cumberland's  piece  is  uncertain. 

9  Novels    of    Swift,    Bage    and    Cumberland,    'Prefatory    Memoir    to 
Richard  Cumberland,'  59-60. 

10  This  play  was  presented  to  the  British  Museum  in   1864,  by  Mr. 
Coventry  Patmore.    Add.  MS.  25990. 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS  305 

tainments,  five  as  alterations  or  adaptations,  and  three  as 
occasional  pieces.11 

Cumberland  boasts  in  his  Memoirs  that  he  was  the 
writer  of  a  'list  of  dramas,  such  as  I  presume  no  English 
author  has  yet  equalled  in  point  of  number.'  This  pre- 
sumption, which  neglects,  for  example,  so  prolific  a 
dramatist  as  Thomas  Heywood,  is,  in  point  of  fact, 
unsound,  yet  it  is  suggestive.  Cumberland's  plays  suc- 
ceeded each  other  with  amazing  swiftness.  Hardly  a 
year  between  1765  and  1811  passed  without  some  new 
dramatic  effort.  He  essayed  all  forms  of  drama — com- 
edy, tragedy,  opera,  and  interlude — indiscriminately. 

Though  no  definite  periods  can  be  assigned  in  which 
Cumberland  adopted  particular  dramatic  forms,  for  con- 
venience his  dramatic  activity  may  be  divided  into  five 
periods  of  weakness  or  strength. 

Cumberland's  first  play  was  written  in  1761,  a  classical 
tragedy.  After  a  period  of  dramatic  weakness  in  the 
field  of  musical  comedy,  he  passed  directly  into  what  may 
be  called  a  first  period  of  power.  Between  1769-1771 
he  wrote  The  Brothers,  The  West  Indian,  and  The 
Fashionable  Lover,  plays  whose  marked  success  imme- 
diately established  him  as  a  leader  in  sentimental  drama. 
At  the  end  of  a  decade  Cumberland  had  achieved  a  suc- 
cess which  he  was  unable  to  equal  in  the  remaining  forty 
years  of  his  life. 

The  Note  of  Hand  was  the  last  play  of  Cumberland's 
staged  by  Garrick.  The  dramatist  turned  again  to 
tragedy  and  musical  comedy,  beginning  a  second  period 
of  dramatic  weakness.  Before  the  departure  for  Spain 
in  1780,  appeared,  besides  several  adaptations,  The 
Battle  of  Hastings,  Calypso,  and  The  Widow  of  Delphi. 

11  Cumberland's  boyish  production  in  1744  of  Shakespear  in  the 
Shades  has  not  been  deemed  worthy  of  discussion.  See  Memoirs,  1.56-64. 


3o6  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Of  the  half-dozen  pieces  between  1781  and  1794  should 
be  mentioned  only  The  Walloons  and  The  Mysterious 
Husband. 

The  years  1794  and  1795,  however,  form  Cumber- 
land's second  period  of  power,  and  find  him  dramatic 
writer-in-ordinary  to  the  London  theatres.  Besides  The 
Box  Lobby  Challenge,  were  performed  The  Jew,  The 
Wheel  of  Fortune,  and  First  Love.  The  Jew  was  widely 
known  in  Germany  and  Austria,  Goethe  himself  acting 
Belcour  at  Weimar.12  This  period  was  the  brief  lightning 
before  the  night  of  the  later  years. 

With  genius  gone  Cumberland  seemed  to  write  with 
renewed  industry,  evidently  composing  under  the  pres- 
sure of  necessity,  for  The  Widow's  Only  Son  gives  advice 
to  an  author  'not  to  write  for  bread  till  he  has  learnt  to 
live  without  it.'13  This  is  the  third  period  of  dramatic 
weakness.  Of  the  score  of  plays  written  in  these  years, 
none  has  escaped  oblivion. 

Cumberland's  position,  in  spite  of  many  bad  plays,  as 
the  most  successful  writer  of  sentimental  comedy  was  due, 
in  some  measure,  to  his  distinction  of  birth,  education,  and 
social  position.  As  the  grandson  of  Bentley  and  the  de- 
scendant of  many  distinguished  churchmen,  'the  elegant 
Cumberland,'  as  he  was  frequently  called,  lent  dignity  to 
the  writing  of  plays.  After  the  acting  of  The  Fashion- 
able Lover,  Doctor  Hoadley  wrote  Garrick:  'I  hope  the 
nonsense  of  the  reviewers  will  not  make  Mr.  C.  be  silent; 
we  want  writers  who  think  and  act  like  gentlemen  for  the 
stage.'14  It  was  understood  that  Cumberland  stood  for 

12  In   1777,   at  the  new  Weimar-Tiefurt  Court  Theatre,   Eckhoff,  the 
actor,  played  Stockwell,  and  Goethe,  Belcour.    See  Lewes,  Life  of  Goethe, 
238. 

13  The  London  Times,  June  8,  1810. 

**  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.465-6. 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS  307 

higher  dramatic  ideals.  'Mr.  Cumberland,'  says  The 
Analytical  Review  for  May,  1795,  'has  long  held  a  place 
of  considerable  distinction  among  our  writers  for  the 
stage;  and  his  correct  and  classical  dramas  have  con- 
tributed in  no  small  degree  towards  checking  the  taste 
for  low  buffoonery,  which  has  of  late  years  met  with 
too  much  encouragement.'  Cumberland  was,  in  Scott's 
phrase,  'in  the  first  rank  of  literature,  and  ...  in  the 
first  rank  of  society.'15  So  The  European  Magazine  for 
March,  1802,  says  that  'Cumberland  has  been  for  many 
years  the  ornament  of  the  British  Drama.'  But  it  must 
be  remembered  that  in  matters  of  social  position  Cum- 
berland was  something  of  a  poseur.  The  Saturday  Re- 
'view  of  November  29,  1862,  has  a  pertinent  comment: 
'When  Cumberland  intimated  that  he  wanted  to  be 
treated,  not  as  a  writer  of  plays,  but  as  a  gentleman,  the 
world  of  his  day  did  not  know  what  he  was  at,  and 
thought  he  gave  himself  airs;  but  every  successful  author 
would  say  so  now,  and  every  one  would  take  the  feeling 
for  granted.'  It  is  more  likely  that  'the  world  of  his 
day'  was  right,  for  Cumberland's  pretensions  in  society 
were  well  known. 

Cumberland  deals  hard  blows  at  the  dramatist  who 
writes  of  a  society  he  does  not  know.  'If,'  he  says,  'the 
author  conceives  himself  at  liberty  to  send  his  characters 
on  and  off  the  stage  exactly  as  he  pleases,  and  thrust  them 
into  gentlemen's  houses  and  private  chambers,  as  if  they 
could  walk  into  them  as  easily  as  they  can  walk  through 
the  side  scenes,  he  does  not  know  his  business:  If  he 
gives  you  the  interior  of  a  man  of  fashion's  family,  and 
does  not  speak  the  language,  or  reflect  the  manners,  of  a 
well-bred  person,  he  undertakes  to  describe  company  he 

15  Novels  of  S<wift,  Bage  and  Cumberland,  'Prefatory  Memoir  to 
Cumberland,'  43. 


308  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

has  never  been  admitted  to,  and  is  an  imposter.'  Like- 
wise in  a  letter  to  Prince  Hoare  he  adds:  'In  common  life 
there  is  nothing  so  out  of  character  as  an  under-bred  man, 
when  he  grows  familiar,  and  puts  himself  at  his  ease  with 
you.  This  remark  ought  to  be  everlastingly  kept  in  sight 
by  writers  for  the  stage.  If  they  have  not  obtained  a 
knowledge  of  the  style  and  manners  of  people  in  high  and 
elegant  life,  by  consorting  with  them  before  they  set  about 
to  represent  them  on  the  stage,  they  had  better  never 
think  of  making  the  attempt.'16 

Cumberland's  belief  in  social  position  was  another 
phase  of  the  personality  most  suited  to  express  itself  in 
sentimental  comedy.  For  in  Richard  Cumberland  were 
fused  all  the  elements  of  that  strange  state  of  mind  of  the 
age,  best  named  'sensibility.'  In  thinking  of  Cumberland, 
one  is  reminded  of  his  character,  Lord  Sensitive,  in  First 
Love.  'Am  I  not  right,'  says  Lady  Ruby,  '.  .  .  is  he  not 
very,  very — Sensitive?'17  Cumberland's  was  the  tem- 
perament to  interpret  rightly  the  delicate  nuances  of  sen- 
timental emotion.  With  feelings  rather  quick  than  deep, 
he  tended  to  create  for  himself  a  world  of  sentiment  as 
unreal  as  that  of  his  own  comedies;  there  occur  in  his 
letters  and  in  the  Memoirs,  passages  filled  with  the  vapid 
emotion  of  a  dialogue  from  The  Brothers  or  the  story  of 
Le  Fevre.  Much  of  his  correspondence  has  the  courtly 
phrasing  of  the  old  school.  'As,'  he  writes  Miss  Farren, 
'you  are  born  to  have  all  mankind  at  your  feet,  you  will 
not  refuse  the  addresses  of  an  old  poet,  who  is  as  much 
devoted  to  your  fame  as  any  man  can  be.'18  The  theme  is 

1C  The  Cabinet  of  Polite  Literature,  May,  1807.  'Letter  to  Prince 
Hoare.' 

17  First  Love,  4.1. 

18  Posthumous   Letters   to   Francis   Colman,  and   George   Colman,  the 
Elder,  227. 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS  309 

different  but  the  tone  the  same  as  that  of  Miss  Aubrey's 
letter  in  The  Fashionable  Lover,  and  the  reminiscent 
softness  of  the  Memoirs  is  very  like  Bridgemore's  in  the 
same  play,  or  that  of  other  aged  gentlemen  whose  wont 
it  was  to  return  in  the  fifth  act  to  sentimentalize. 

Cumberland,  moreover,  was  fitted  to  write  sentimental 
comedy  by  his  genuine,  but  punctilious,  virtue.  The 
proper  ending  could  not  fail  to  come  from  the  pen  of 
'the  moral  Cumberland.'  The  field  of  sentimental 
comedy,  which  offered  rewards  to  anyone  with  industry 
and  persistence,  was  easily  conquered  by  Cumberland, 
who  possessed  these  qualities  in  a  high  degree,  and  more 
than  average  ability.  Though  Cumberland  was  worsted 
by  Goldsmith  and  men  of  the  rival  school,  he  easily  van- 
quished such  playwrights  as  Mrs.  Lennox,  Mrs.  Griffith, 
and  Kelly. 

One  reason  for  Cumberland's  superiority  over  his 
rivals  in  sentimental  comedy  is  clear.  Sunk  in  sentiment 
as  he  seems,  he  is  less  under  the  sway  of  the  tearful  muse 
than  Kelly  or  Holcroft.  'You  are  as  dull  as  a  sentimental 
comedy,'  says  one  of  his  characters;  Cumberland  prided 
himself  upon  his  freedom  from  false  as  opposed  to  true 
sentiment,  which  was  supposed  to  'flow  naturally  from 
[the]  situation  and  circumstances;  and  not  seem  to  be 
imposed  upon  the  character  by  the  author.'  In  his  pre- 
face to  Nanine,  Voltaire  says:  'Comedy,  I  repeat,  may 
have  its  moods  of  passion,  anger,  and  melting  pity,  pro- 
vided that  it  afterwards  makes  well-bred  people  laugh. 
If  it  were  to  lack  the  comic  element  and  be  only  tearful 
\larmoy ant e~\,  it  is  then  that  it  would  be  a  very  faulty 
and  very  disagreeable  species.'  So  sentimental  comedy  in 
England  seemed  to  separate  in  two  indefinitely  merging 
classes,  the  serious,  tearful  type,  similar  to  the  French 


3io  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

comedie  larmoyante,  and  the  lighter  drama,  less  oppressed 
by  sentiment,  and  relieved  by  comic  scenes,  like  the  come- 
die bourgeoisie,  and  still  more  like  the  English  domestic 
drama,  which  developed  through  Steele,  Gibber,  and 
Lillo.  It  may,  then,  broadly  speaking,  be  said  that  Kelly 
and  Holcroft  incline  towards  the  more  tearful  French 
school,  while  Cumberland,  with  an  occasional  exception, 
continues  the  English  tradition.  In  support  of  this  state- 
ment, it  is  noticeable  that  Kelly  is  openly  connected  with 
the  French  school,  for  False  Delicacy  enjoyed  a  fame  in 
France  which  none  of  Cumberland's  plays  ever  attained 
there.  But  Cumberland  repudiates  French  influence. 
His  models  are  Fielding,  Smollett,  and  English  drama- 
tists; his  plays  are  filled  with  English  scenes  and  charac- 
ters; and  his  attitude  is  set  forth  in  the  prologue  to  The 
Brothers:  'You  shall  receive  and  judge  an  English  play.' 
Likewise,  in  the  prologue  to  The  Fashionable  Lover 
Cumberland  declares  the  play  to  be : 

Home-bred  and  born,  no  strangers  he  displays, 
Nor  tortures  free-born  limits  in  French  stays. 

The  use  of  English  scenes  and  English  characters  in 
Cumberland's  plays  brought  more  natural  dialogue  and 
less  sentiment.  Thus  the  moral  speeches  in  his  comedies 
tend  to  be  shorter,  less  frequent,  and  less  tragically  senti- 
mental than  in  the  plays  of  Kelly,  Holcroft,  and  the  other 
dramatists.  We  have  many  moral  epigrams  like  Bel- 
cour's:  'I  am  the  offspring  of  distress,  and  every  child  of 
sorrow  is  my  brother,'19  or  Fanny's  in  The  Brothers: 
'Ay,  ay,  brother,  a  good  conscience  in  a  coarse  drugget  is 
better  than  an  aching  heart  in  a  silken  gown,'20  or  even 

19  The  West  Indian,  1.1. 

20  The  Brothers,  1.1. 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS 


Blushenly's  affected  lines  to  Lady  Paragon  :  'The  play- 
fulness of  your  spirit  shews  the  purity  of  your  nature;  a 
heart  like  your's  wou'd  make  an  angel's  face  superfluous; 
I  think  with  too  much  reverence  of  your  virtue  to  recollect 
that  you  are  beautiful.'21  But  these  are  more  temperate 
than  typical  lines  of  Holcroft:  'My  heart,'  says  Lady 
Mortimer  to  Sir  Frederick,  'sighs  for  an  acquaintance,  a 
mate,  that  like  itself  is  subject  to  all  the  sweet  emotions 
of  sensibility!  —  Yes,  it  was  the  first  wish  of  my  soul  to 
find  this  correspondent  heart!  a  heart  beating  with  the 
same  ardour,  vibrating  to  the  same  sensations,  .  .  . 
shrinking  from  the  same  pangs;  pliant,  yet  firm;  gentle, 
yet  aspiring;  passionate,  yet  pure!'21 

Moreover,  Cumberland's  dialogue,  commended  by 
critics  in  the  worst  of  his  plays,  attains  occasional  emi- 
nences of  wit  not  equally  apparent  in  his  rivals'  drama. 
The  following  example  is  taken  from  The  Natural  Son: 

Penelope:  A  lady  write  poems!  I  wonder  any  Lady  will  do 
such  a  thing,  'tis  sure  destruction  to  the  complexion.  —  Doctor 
Calomel  says,  a  lady,  to  preserve  her  beauty  shou'd  not  even 
think;  he  has  wrote  a  book  purposely  to  dissuade  people  from 
reading. 

Phoebe:  Every  book  he  writes  will  do  that.23 

In  addition  to  wit,  the  dialogue  of  Cumberland's  come- 
dies constantly  displays  evidences  of  an  excellent  educa- 
tion, and  a  knowledge  of  good  society.  Scott  says  that 
Cumberland  knew  the  great  world,  and  it  is  not  strange 
that  his  dialogue  reflects  more  polish  than  that  of 
Kelly,  a  tavern-keeper's  son,  or  Holcroft,  son  of  a  shoe- 
maker. 'Cumberland's  forte,'  says  Genest,  'lay  in  the 

21  The  Natural  Son,  1.1. 

22  Holcroft,  Seduction,  5.4. 

23  The  Natural  Son,  1.1. 


312  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

writing  of  dialogue.'24  What  Mr.  Millar  calls  Cumber- 
land's 'natural  taste'  forms  a  large  element  in  an  estimate 
of  the  dramatist. 

In  a  letter  to  Prince  Hoare  'On  Dramatic  Style,'  in 
The  Cabinet  of  Polite  Literature  for  May,  1807,  Cum- 
berland gives  interesting  hints  as  to  his  method  of  com- 
position. After  praising  Congreve's  style  as  'terse, 
compressed,  and  pointed,'  he  analyses  a  conversation  be- 
tween Fainlove  and  Mirabel  in  The  Way  of  the  World, 
and  points  out  that  'Congreve  builds  one  speech  upon 
another,  and  works  his  climax  point  by  point.'  He  warns 
his  readers,  however,  against  Congreve's  inelegance:  'If 
they  [writers]  resort  to  his  table  for  clean  and  wholesome 
fare,  they  will  only  be  entertained  with  tainted  fragments, 
disguised  by  high-seasoned  sauces  and  stimulating  spices.' 

The  many  sentimental  comedies  of  Cumberland,  like 
those  of  Kelly,  delight  in  showing  virtue  or  innocence  in 
distress.  Thus  The  Brothers  opens  with  a  picture  of  Old 
Goodwin's  family,  ruined  by  a  'merciless  landlord,'25 
forced  to  'plough  the  ocean'26  for  subsistence,  yet  bearing 
all  with  fortitude,  and  saving  the  lives  of  others  more 
unfortunate  than  themselves.  In  The  Fashionable  Lover, 
Augusta  Aubrey,  a  girl  of  refinement,  is  suddenly  left 
alone  in  a  brothel;  in  First  Love,  Sabina  Rosny  is  de- 
serted by  her  husband,  Lord  Sensitive ;  in  The  Impostors, 
Elinor  is  ill  treated  by  her  lover,  Sir  Charles  Freemantle; 
and  in  A  Hint  to  Husbands,  Lady  Transit,  the  patient 
wife,  is  compelled  to  endure  all  manner  of  neglect  and 
even  insult  from  her  husband.  Situations  like  these 
pleased  the  dramatist  and  his  audience,  and  inspired,  in 

24  Genest,  8.398.    See  also  Millar,  The  Mid-Eighteenth  Century,  for  a 
general  background  for  Cumberland's  drama. 

25  The  brothers,  1.1. 

26  Ibid.,  1.5. 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS  313 

turn,  scenes  in  which  the  tender  sympathies  of  the  other 
characters  of  the  play  are  aroused  to  rescue  the  suffering 
ones  from  their  dilemmas.  Thus,  in  The  Wheel  of  For- 
tune, Emily's  penniless  lot  evokes  Penruddock's  compas- 
sion, and  provides  a  scene  in  which  his  misanthropy 
changes  to  enthusiastic  benevolence,  and  ends  in  bestow- 
ing upon  the  lady  and  her  lover  a  fortune.  Similarly, 
Sheva  befriends  the  unfortunate  Eliza  in  The  Jew,  and 
Lady  Paragon  in  The  Natural  Son  offers  her  heart  and 
hand  to  Blushenly.  For  such  scenes  the  sentimental  dram- 
atist strove,  and  for  them  he  was  likely  to  sacrifice 
natural  action  and  sound  psychology.  Such  situations 
are  generally  pervaded  by  a  languid  atmosphere  of  gloom 
and  pity,  either  for  self  or  for  another;  for  vigour  of 
thought  is  substituted  a  tenderness  of  sentiment  which  a 
more  masculine  dramatic  ideal  despises.  They  are  all 
covered,  as  Leslie  Stephen  says,  with  the  'mildew'  of 
sentiment.  One  bit  of  dialogue  is  illustrative.  In  The 
Jew  Eliza  and  her  mother  converse : 

Mrs.  R. :  Heaven  bless  him  to  the  extent  of  his  deservings! 
On  him  rests  all  our  hope;  to  him  we  cling,  as  to  the  last  dear 
relic  of  our  wrecked  nobility.  But  he's  a  man,  Eliza,  and  endowed 
with  strength  and  fortitude  to  struggle  in  the  storm ;  and  we 
are  weak  helpless  women,  and  can  do  no  more  than  suffer  and 
submit. 

Eliza :  True,  but  there  is  a  part  allotted  to  the  weakest,  even  to 
me;  an  humble  one  indeed,  and  easily  performed,  since  nothing  is 
required  but  to  obey,  to  love  you,  and  to  honour  you.27 

'Mr.  Cumberland's  comic  muse,'  says  Davies  rightly, 
'seems  to  be  always  in  mourning,'28  and  Doctor  Hoadley 
writes  Garrick:  'I  have  shed  tears  more  than  once  over 

27  The  Jew,  2.1. 

28  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  David  Garrick,  2.270. 


3i2  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

writing  of  dialogue.'24  What  Mr.  Millar  calls  Cumber- 
land's 'natural  taste'  forms  a  large  element  in  an  estimate 
of  the  dramatist. 

In  a  letter  to  Prince  Hoare  'On  Dramatic  Style,'  in 
The  Cabinet  of  Polite  Literature  for  May,  1807,  Cum- 
berland gives  interesting  hints  as  to  his  method  of  com- 
position. After  praising  Congreve's  style  as  'terse, 
compressed,  and  pointed,'  he  analyses  a  conversation  be- 
tween Fainlove  and  Mirabel  in  The  Way  of  the  World, 
and  points  out  that  'Congreve  builds  one  speech  upon 
another,  and  works  his  climax  point  by  point.'  He  warns 
his  readers,  however,  against  Congreve's  inelegance:  'If 
they  [writers]  resort  to  his  table  for  clean  and  wholesome 
fare,  they  will  only  be  entertained  with  tainted  fragments, 
disguised  by  high-seasoned  sauces  and  stimulating  spices.' 

The  many  sentimental  comedies  of  Cumberland,  like 
those  of  Kelly,  delight  in  showing  virtue  or  innocence  in 
distress.  Thus  The  Brothers  opens  with  a  picture  of  Old 
Goodwin's  family,  ruined  by  a  'merciless  landlord,'25 
forced  to  'plough  the  ocean'26  for  subsistence,  yet  bearing 
all  with  fortitude,  and  saving  the  lives  of  others  more 
unfortunate  than  themselves.  In  The  Fashionable  Lover, 
Augusta  Aubrey,  a  girl  of  refinement,  is  suddenly  left 
alone  in  a  brothel;  in  First  Love,  Sabina  Rosny  is  de- 
serted by  her  husband,  Lord  Sensitive ;  in  The  Impostors, 
Elinor  is  ill  treated  by  her  lover,  Sir  Charles  Freemantle; 
and  in  A  Hint  to  Husbands,  Lady  Transit,  the  patient 
wife,  is  compelled  to  endure  all  manner  of  neglect  and 
even  insult  from  her  husband.  Situations  like  these 
pleased  the  dramatist  and  his  audience,  and  inspired,  in 

24  Genest,  8.398.    See  also  Millar,  The  Mid-Eighteenth  Century,  for  a 
general  background  for  Cumberland's  drama. 

25  The  Er  others,  1.1. 
**Ibid.t  1.5. 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS  313 

turn,  scenes  in  which  the  tender  sympathies  of  the  other 
characters  of  the  play  are  aroused  to  rescue  the  suffering 
ones  from  their  dilemmas.  Thus,  in  The  Wheel  of  For- 
tune,  Emily's  penniless  lot  evokes  Penruddock's  compas- 
sion, and  provides  a  scene  in  which  his  misanthropy 
changes  to  enthusiastic  benevolence,  and  ends  in  bestow- 
ing upon  the  lady  and  her  lover  a  fortune.  Similarly, 
Sheva  befriends  the  unfortunate  Eliza  in  The  Jew,  and 
Lady  Paragon  in  The  Natural  Son  offers  her  heart  and 
hand  to  Blushenly.  For  such  scenes  the  sentimental  dram- 
atist strove,  and  for  them  he  was  likely  to  sacrifice 
natural  action  and  sound  psychology.  Such  situations 
are  generally  pervaded  by  a  languid  atmosphere  of  gloom 
and  pity,  either  for  self  or  for  another;  for  vigour  of 
thought  is  substituted  a  tenderness  of  sentiment  which  a 
more  masculine  dramatic  ideal  despises.  They  are  all 
covered,  as  Leslie  Stephen  says,  with  the  'mildew'  of 
sentiment.  One  bit  of  dialogue  is  illustrative.  In  The 
Jew  Eliza  and  her  mother  converse : 

Mrs.  R. :  Heaven  bless  him  to  the  extent  of  his  deservings! 
On  him  rests  all  our  hope;  to  him  we  cling,  as  to  the  last  dear 
relic  of  our  wrecked  nobility.  But  he's  a  man,  Eliza,  and  endowed 
with  strength  and  fortitude  to  struggle  in  the  storm;  and  we 
are  weak  helpless  women,  and  can  do  no  more  than  suffer  and 
submit. 

Eliza :  True,  but  there  is  a  part  allotted  to  the  weakest,  even  to 
me;  an  humble  one  indeed,  and  easily  performed,  since  nothing  is 
required  but  to  obey,  to  love  you,  and  to  honour  you.27 

'Mr.  Cumberland's  comic  muse,'  says  Davies  rightly, 
'seems  to  be  always  in  mourning,'28  and  Doctor  Hoadley 
writes  Garrick:  'I  have  shed  tears  more  than  once  over 

27  The  Jew,  2.1. 

28  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  David  Garrick,  2.270. 


3i4  RICH4RD  CUMBERLAND 

Mr.  Cumberland's  comedy/29    This  characteristic  excerpt 
of  dialogue  is  from  The  Natural  Son: 

Lady  Paragon  [to  Blushenly]  :  The  delicacy  of  your  principle 
has  determin'd  you  to  meet  my  affection  with  indifference. 
Blushenly:  O  cruel,  cruel  honour. 


Lady  Paragon:  Oh  Harry!  if  you  are  still  so  blind  as  not  to 
see  the  openest  heart  in  nature,  legible  by  every  eye  but  your's, 
I'll  sooner  do  a  violence  to  my  sex's  delicacy,  by  an  avowal  of  my 
love,  than  to  leave  it  in  your  power  to  make  a  plea  of  ignorance. 

Blushenly :  You  shall  not  do  your  dignity  that  wrong ;  I  see  and 
know  your  heart.30 

It  may  be  observed,  as  a  general  statement,  that  Cum- 
berland, as  in  the  example  quoted  above,  is  more  direct, 
more  personal,  than  Kelly  in  his  moral  sentiment.  There 
seem  absent  in  Cumberland's  plays  speeches  of  the  im- 
personal quality  found  in  False  Delicacy.  Thus  Lady 
Betty  says :  'The  woman  that  wants  candour  where  she  is 
address'd  by  a  man  of  merit,  wants  a  very  essential  virtue; 
and  she  who  can  delight  in  the  anxiety  of  a  worthy  mind, 
is  little  to  be  pitied  when  she  feels  the  sharpest  stings  of 
anxiety  in  her  own.'31  And  says  Sidney:  'There  is  some- 
thing shocking  in  a  union  with  a  woman  whose  affections 
we  know  to  be  alienated;  and  'tis  difficult  to  say  which  is 
most  entitled  to  contempt,  he  that  stoops  to  accept  of  a 
pre-engaged  mind,  or  he  that  puts  up  with  a  prostituted 
person.'32 

The  mournfulness  of  sentimental  drama  presents  a 
striking  contrast  to  the  gaiety  of  Restoration  comedy.  It 

29  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.465. 

30  The  Natural  Son,  4.1. 

31  Kelly,  False  Delicacy,  2.2. 
**Ibid.,  5.1. 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS  315 

arose  from  an  excess  of  those  emotions  of  humanity 
which  the  Restoration  playwrights  steadily  derided.  As 
their  comedy  had  excluded  all  pity  and  sympathy,  so  now 
the  sentimental  school  adopted  the  opposite  extreme,  and 
opened  wide  'the  sluices  of  benevolence.'  Since  their 
moral  purpose  precluded  a  favourable  representation  of 
fashionable  life,  the  sentimental  writers,  and,  in  particu- 
lar, Cumberland,  turned  to  the  more  familiar  scenes  of 
English  domesticity.  A  thread,  at  least,  of  humble  story 
runs  through  almost  every  comedy  of  Cumberland's,  and 
some,  like  The  Box  Lobby  Challenge  and  The  Jew,  link 
their  entire  plot  with  the  people  of  the  English  middle,  or 
even  lower,  classes.  So  Belcour,  the  hero  of  The  West 
Indian,  is  the  son  of  a  merchant,  and  weds  the  daughter 
of  a  British  officer,  after  dealings  with  the  Fulmers,  dis- 
honest booksellers;  The  Brothers  is  concerned  with  the 
poorer  class  of  country  gentry,  and,  in  a  lesser  degree, 
with  the  fortunes  of  a  fisherman's  family;  while  the  scenes 
of  The  Jew  are  laid  alternately  in  the  houses  of  a  London 
merchant  and  of  a  Hebrew  money-lender.  Cumberland 
proposed  showing  on  the  stage  the  moral  lives  of  the 
people  of  his  own  audiences.  He  frankly  neglected  the 
joys  and  sorrows  of  the  nobility,  and  thus  continued  the 
tradition  of  the  domestic  drama  of  Rowe,  Cibber,  and 
Steele.  So  his  heroes  are  young  men  of  sound  morals,  of 
humble  family,  but  in  disgrace  with  fortune,  like  Belfield 
Junior  in  The  Brothers,  or  Tyrrel  in  The  Fashionable 
Lover,  or  Frederick  in  First  Love.  His  villains,  on  the 
other  hand,  are  apt  to  be  of  dissipated  life,  of  noble  birth, 
and,  for  the  time  being,  prosperous,  like  Lord  Abberville 
or  Lord  Transit  of  The  Fashionable  Lover  and  A  Hint 
to  Husbands.  At  other  times,  Cumberland  shows  us 
lords  and  ladies  in  ridiculous  lights  that  we  may  compare 


316  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

them  with  the  more  natural  men  and  women  of  the  middle 
classes.  Such  are  Lady  Rusport,  Sir  Benjamin  Dove 
in  The  Brothers,  or  Lord  Sensitive  in  contrast  to  Stock- 
well,  Belfield  Junior,  and  David  Mowbray  in  First  Love. 

In  scenes  of  humbler  life  we  are  permitted  to  watch  the 
uneasy  actions  of  Weazle  or  Earling,  unscrupulous 
lawyers  in  The  Wheel  of  Fortune  and  False  Impressions; 
we  are  taken  to  the  house  of  Billy  Bustler  in  First  Love, 
to  see  the  carving  of  a  goose;  or  in  The  Walloons  we  are 
present  at  a  grog  party  in  which  Pat  Corey,  Bumboat, 
and  Tipple  become  very  drunk.  It  is  not  the  existence  of 
such  scenes  and  characters — there  are  similar  ones  in 
Kelly — but  their  frequency  which  is  significant.  The  con- 
stant intrusion  of  low  comedy  figures,  sometimes  to  the 
subordination  of  the  regular  characters  of  sentimental 
comedy,  indicates  only  one  fact — that  Cumberland  was 
aware  of  the  opposition  to  sentimental  comedy,  as  ex- 
emplified in  Goldsmith's  plays,  and  was  influenced, 
perhaps  unconsciously.  In  comparison  with  the  plays  of 
Kelly  and  Holcroft  there  is,  at  times,  in  the  drama 
of  Cumberland  a  comparatively  natural  and  wholesome 
atmosphere.  This  is  perceptible  in  characters  like  Bel- 
cour  or  Major  O'Flaherty  in  The  West  Indian;  in  The 
Brothers,  the  scene  of  which  is  on  the  coast  of  Cornwall, 
the  reader  feels  throughout  the  breath  of  the  sea.  The 
Brothers  has  the  materials  for  healthy,  natural  comedy. 

But  if  Cumberland  was  willing,  in  an  occasional  scene 
or  character,  to  yield  to  more  natural  influences,  he  never 
deserted  the  moral  aims  of  sentimental  comedy.  Thus 
characters  from  humble  life  are  chosen  not  merely  to 
divert,  as  is  Goldsmith's  purpose,  but  to  instruct.  Cum- 
berland wishes  us  not  merely  to  be  amused  at  Billy 
Bustler,  but  also  to  see  the  good  in  a  righteous,  though 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS  317 

humble,  life.  Several  characters  in  Cumberland's  plays 
remind  us  of  Tony  Lumpkin,  and  are,  perhaps,  somewhat 
influenced  by  him,  but  all  have  a  tiresome  moral  strain 
that  dampens  any  mirth  we  may  feel.  There  is  no  sound 
laughter  in  Cumberland. 

His  plots,  as  Mr.  Waterhouse  has  said,  are  always 
based  upon  the  trials  of  a  pair  of  lovers.  Since  the  end 
is  sentiment,  the  plot  is  but  a  means,  and  the  dramatist 
wastes  little  concern  upon  the  probability  or  consistency 
of  his  situations.  Thus  the  obstacles  to  the  union  of  the 
lovers  are  often  of  the  slenderest  nature,  and  sometimes 
can  hardly  be  said  to  exist  at  all.  The  difficulty  may 
hang  upon  a  mistaken  identity  absurdly  obvious  to  all  but 
the  lovers  themselves.  Such  is  Belcour's  belief  that 
Louisa  is  Dudley's  mistress,  Tyrrel's  misinterpretation 
of  Miss  Aubrey's  meekness  towards  Lord  Abberville,  or 
even  Violetta's  incredible  error  in  believing  that  Sophia 
in  saying  'Belfield'  means  the  elder  brother.  The  hin- 
drance is  often  the  opposition  of  a  parent,  or  the  lack  of 
a  fortune  and,  occasionally,  mere  diffidence  in  one  of  the 
lovers.  Thus  the  difficulties  do  not  spring  from  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  action,  but  are  deliberately  imposed  by 
the  dramatist.  Sometimes  the  misunderstanding  between 
the  lovers  threatens  to  yield  to  an  early  eclair  cissement, 
and  then  the  dramatist  hastens  to  delay  the  action  or  to 
introduce  new  stage  business.  Thus,  although  Tyrrel  and 
Miss  Aubrey  are  virtually  united  at  the  end  of  the  third 
act  of  The  Fashionable  Lover,  their  final  betrothal  does 
not  occur  until  the  fifth  act,  the  fourth  being  taken  up  with 
irrelevant  dialogue,  and  the  appearance  of  a  lost  father 
for  Miss  Aubrey. 

Cumberland  also  lacks  expositional  power.  The  situa- 
tions are  not  made  clear  at  the  beginning,  and  important 


318  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

characters  are  often  delayed  in  their  first  entrance  by 
unimportant  incidents.  Cicero,  in  Cumberland's  first  play, 
does  not  appear  until  the  third  act.  So  in  the  first  act  of 
The  West  Indian  Stockwell  confides  the  main  secret  of  the 
plot  to  Stukely,  but  this  character  plays  no  further  part  in 
the  action. 

Besides  surprises,  chance  meetings,  and  other  devices 
of  comedy,  Cumberland's  foibles  appear  plainly  enough. 
He  is  excessively  fond  of  scenes  of  great  contrast,  with 
the  low  and  high  worlds  meeting  face  to  face.  Thus  we 
see  the  misanthrope  Penruddock  in  the  ballroom,  or  Jack 
Nightshade  in  the  art  gallery.  He  likes  quarrel  scenes 
between  husband  and  wife;  the  Doves,  the  Wrangles  (in 
First  Love),  and  the  Transits  are  entertaining,  if  not 
original,  couples.  He  takes  pleasure  in  seeing  a  rough 
gallant  like  Jack  Crotchet  in  The  Box  Lobby  Challenge 
smoke  a  pedantic  spinster  such  as  Di  Grampus.  Other 
favourite  scenes  are  those  of  the  quack  doctor,  occurring 
in  The  Sailor's  Daughter,  A  Word  for  Nature,  and  The 
Last  of  the  Family,  and  the  feigned  madness  scenes  such 
as  in  the  last-named  play,  and  in  The  Days  of  Yore. 

Cumberland's  regard  for  the  romantic  reunion  scene  is 
apparent  in  almost  every  comedy.  They  come  suddenly, 
unexpectedly,  from  remote  parts  of  the  world,  fathers, 
lovers,  and  husbands.  Sentiment  is  supreme.  This 
dialogue  from  the  end  of  the  fourth  act  of  The  Fashion- 
able Lover  is  typical: 

Aubrey:  You  are  in  error;  you  are  not  an  orphan;  you  have  a 
father,  whom,  thro'  toil  and  peril,  thro'  sickness  and  thro'  sorrow, 
Heaven  has  graciously  preserved  and  blest  at  length  his  unremit- 
ting labours  with  abundance. 

Tyrrel:  Did  I  not  tell  you  this?    Bear  up. 

Aubrey:  Yes,  virtuous  Augusta,  all  your  sufferings  terminate 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS  319 

this  moment;  you  may  now  give  way  to  love  and  happiness;  you 
have  a  father  living  who  approves  your  passion,  who  will  crown 
it  with  a  liberal  fortune,  who  now  looks  upon  you,  speaks  to  you, 
embraces  you.  .  .  . 

Tyrrel :  See  how  her  colour  flies — She'll  faint. 

Aubrey:  What  have  I  done?     Dear  innocent,  look  up. 

Miss  Aubrey:  Oh,  yes,  to  Heaven  with  gratitude  for  these 
divine  vouchsafements — I  have  a  father  then  at  last — Pardon  my 
tears;  I'm  little  used  to  happiness,  and  have  not  learned  to  bear  it. 

Cumberland's  other  faults  of  plot  pale  before  his 
singular  methods  in  effecting  a  denouement.  The  diffi- 
culties of  The  West  Indian  are  caused  by  the  libertinism 
of  Belcour.  When  these  seem  insurmountable,  Belcour 
repents  and  the  difficulties  vanish.  The  settled  and  malig- 
nant purpose  of  Penruddock  in  The  Wheel  of  Fortune 
promises  the  ruin  of  the  Woodvilles,  and  of  Emily 
Tempest.  But  Penruddock  relents,  and  there  follows  a 
general  reconciliation.  Lord  Sensitive  has  lived  a 
treacherous  and  dissolute  life.  But  he  suddenly  gives  up 
Lady  Ruby,  and  returns  to  Sabina,  his  abandoned  wife. 
Scarcely  a  play  is  without  its  repentance  in  the  last  act,  and 
its  accompanying  arbitrary  change  of  a  principal  char- 
acter. Thus  in  a  single  speech  characters  alter  the  habits 
of  a  lifetime.  Belcour  becomes  austere  in  morals,  Pen- 
ruddock doffs  his  misanthropy,  and  Lord  Sensitive  gladly 
accepts  domestic  fetters. 

The  radical  alteration  of  character  in  the  last  act  is  a 
result  of  the  dependance  of  sentimental  comedy  upon  the 
happy  ending,  and  the  inability  of  the  dramatist  to  evolve 
his  conclusion  by  the  logical  development  of  character  and 
situation.  But  it  should  be  observed  that  the  dramatist 
was  only  following  the  traditions  of  his  art.  In  senti- 
mental comedy  psychology  was  neither  asked  nor  given. 
The  two  essentials,  sentiment  and  a  happy  ending,  Cum- 


320  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

berland  has  in  abundance.  Contemporary  critics  found 
fault,  not  with  the  unnaturalness  of  characters  like  Bel- 
field  Senior,  or  Lord  Abberville,  but  with  the  flaws  in  the 
mechanism  of  their  favourite  devices,  such  as  the  jewel 
episode  in  The  West  Indian,  or  the  chance  meeting  of 
Colin  Macleod  and  Miss  Aubrey  in  The  Fashionable 
Lover. 

Besides  the  mechanical  reason  fpr  change  of  char- 
acter was  the  necessity  of  showing  in  the  denouement 
virtue  triumphant.  Lines  in  Garrick's  prologue  to  She 
Stoops  to  Conquer  come  near  to  Cumberland's  attitude: 

Let  not  your  virtue  trip :  who  trips  may  stumble, 
And  Virtue  is  not  Virtue  if  she  tumble. 

Since  the  happy  ending  was  indispensable,  the  evil-doer 
could  not  be  justly  punished,  and  the  only  alternative  was 
his  repentance.  In  this  manner,  characters  like  Belfield 
Senior  and  Lord  Abberville  easily  escape  the  disgrace 
they  richly  deserve. 

Another  means  of  bringing  about  a  denouement  used 
by  Cumberland  is  the  removal  of  obstacles  by  a  character 
somewhat  detached  from  the  main  plot.  An  example  of 
this  is  the  unexpected  appearance  of  Miss  Aubrey's 
father  in  The  Fashionable  Lover,  the  return  of  Lady 
Bangle's  husband  in  The  Walloons,  or  the  arrival  of 
Varland  with  a  new  will  in  The  West  Indian.  Similarly, 
Mortimer  bestows  a  fortune  on  Tyrrel  in  The  Fashion- 
able Lover,  and  Rueful  acknowledges  Blushenly  in  The 
Natural  Son.  Still  another  obvious  weakness  of  Cum- 
berland's plots  is  his  premature  revelation  of  the  end  of 
his  story.  Doran  exaggerates  when  he  says  that  'all 
Cumberland's  denouements  may  be  conjectured  before 
the  curtain  falls  on  his  second  acts,'33  but  many  times, 

33  Annals  of  the  Stage,  2.70. 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS  321 

indeed,  little  action  of  importance  is  left  for  the  last  two 
acts  of  the  play.  The  outcome  of  False  Impressions 
cannot  be  in  great  doubt  after  Algernon's  entrance  into 
Lady  Cypress's  family;  Penruddock's  purpose  is  clear 
early  in  the  play;  and  the  lighter  plays,  such  as  The  Last 
of  the  Family,  The  Eccentric  Lover,  and  Lovers'  Reso- 
lutions, hardly  leave  Cumberland's  intentions  in  doubt 
after  the  first  act.  Fielding's  damning  of  all  fifth  acts 
might  be  easily  applied  to  the  third  acts  of  Cumberland's 
plays. 

Cumberland  wrote  nine  tragedies.  Of  three  based 
upon  classical  subjects,  only  one,  The  Sybil,  or  The  Elder 
Brutus,  was  performed,  and  this  in  an  altered  form  seven 
years  after  its  author's  death.  The  two  others,  The 
Banishment  of  Cicero  and  Tiberius  in  Capreae,  were 
never  accepted  by  the  managers  of  Covent  Garden  or 
Drury  Lane.  Torrendal  and  The  False  Demetrius  ap- 
peared in  the  Posthumous  Dramatick  Works.  The  Arab 
was  acted  once,  and  The  Battle  of  Hastings  had  but  a 
brief  day.  Two  tragedies  of  the  nine,  The  Carmelite  and 
The  Mysterious  Husband,  were  successful.  Cumberland 
lacked  the  power  to  write  convincing  tragedy.  Of  the 
conception  or  exposition  in  drama  of  a  single  great  idea 
he  was  incapable.  His  tragedies  contain  merely  the  ele- 
ments of  sentimental  comedy  shrouded  in  a  deeper  gloom. 

The  Carmelite  opens  with  a  shipwreck,  and  the  action 
takes  place  near  a  monastery  on  the  Isle  of  Wight.  The 
plot  is  concerned  with  the  usual  pair  of  lovers,  but  a  tragic 
setting  is  created  by  the  circumstances : 

Twenty  long  years  his  lady  mourns  him  dead, 
And  bathes  with  faithful  tears  a  widow'd  bed.34 

34  The  Carmelite,  Prologue. 


322  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

The  obstacles  to  the  union  of  the  couple  in  the  first  act 
are  not  apparent  to  the  reader,  but  Cumberland  defers 
it  until  the  fifth  by  the  devices  of  comedy.  Gyfford  sur- 
prises and  overhears  Matilda,  and  Saint  Valori  believes 
Montgomeri  to  be  his  wife's  lover.  Hildebrand  repents 
during  the  first  three  acts,  and  dies,  forgiven  for  a  sin 
which  he  never  committed.  Hildebrand  swoons  at  the 
revelation  of  Saint  Valori's  identity,  and  Saint  Valori 
himself  faints  as  a  result  of  his  harrowing  emotional 
experiences.  The  action  of  the  play  is  retarded  by 
long,  dreary  emotional  scenes  between  Matilda  and 
Montgomeri,  and  Hildebrand  and  Saint  Valori.  Cum- 
berland's dialogue,  easy  in  comedy,  is  strained  and  un- 
natural in  the  verse  of  tragedy.  Matilda's  most  impor- 
tant speech  to  Hildebrand  follows : 

Mercy!  thou  man  of  blood,  thou  hast  destroyed  it, 

It  came  from  heaven  to  save  Saint  Valori: 

You  saw  the  cherub  messenger  alight 

From  its  descent ;  with  outspread  wings  it  sate, 

Covering  his  breast;  you  drew  your  cursed  steel 

And  through  the  pleading  angel  pierc'd  his  heart. 

Then,  then  the  moon,  by  whose  pale  light  you  struck 

Turn'd  fiery  red,  and  from  her  angry  orb 

Darted  contagious  sickness  on  the  earth  ; 

The  planets  in  their  courses  shriek'd  for  horror 

Heav'n  dropt  maternal  tears.35 

In  The  Battle  of  Hastings  there  is  very  little  tragedy, 
and  no  battle.  Matilda,  the  woman  scorned,  forgives  the 
lovers  in  the  fourth  act,  and  Harold  expires  without  the 
slightest  effect  upon  the  plot.  The  diction  is  better  in  The 
Battle  of  Hastings,  but  the  same  mournful  atmosphere 
pervades  the  play.  Cumberland's  tragedy  is  a  kind  of 

35  The  Carmelite,  4.1. 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS  323 

exalted  sentimental  comedy.  The  Mysterious  Husband, 
Cumberland's  only  trial  of  domestic  tragedy,  is  an  excel- 
lent continuation  of  the  traditions  of  Steele,  Gibber,  and 
Lillo. 

Cumberland's  adaptations,  four  in  number,  were  fail- 
ures. The  author  was  wrong  in  believing  that  'in  exam- 
ining the  brilliancy  of  a  diamond  few  people  throw  away 
any  remark  upon  the  dulness  of  the  foil.'  Likewise,  his 
operas,  musical  entertainments,  and  occasional  pieces 
achieved  nothing,  being  hastily  composed,  and  unsuited  to 
his  talents. 

When  we  consider  the  characters  in  these  numerous 
kinds  of  drama  we  find  that,  both  in  tragedy  and  comedy, 
they  lack  variety,  and,  save  in  a  few  striking  instances, 
originality.  The  approximately  three  hundred  figures  of 
the  comedies  fall  easily  into  a  dozen  distinct  types.  The 
heroes,  pleasant,  correct  young  men,  of  infinite  polish,  are 
variously  named,  but  act  and  think  alike.  There  may  be 
mentioned  Algernon,  Sir  Charles  Freemantle,  Frederick, 
Worthington,  Montgomery,  Clifton,  Blushenly,  Charles 
M unlove,  Belfield  Junior,  Sentamour,  Tyrrel,  and  Rivers. 
Cumberland's  heroines  are  his  happiest  efforts.  His 
breeding,  his  education,  and  his  sensibility,  all  enabled 
him  to  create  feminine  characters  of  charm  and  grace. 
Elinor,  Eliza,  Lady  Transit,  and  Sophia  are  of  gentler 
mould,  while  Emily,  Lady  Ruby,  Mrs.  Chevely,  Lady 
Paragon,  and  Lady  Davenant  seem  to  direct  the  action 
of  the  plays  with  their  energy  and  spirit.  Cumberland's 
heroines  have,  indeed,  been  accused  of  being  over-zealous, 
and  Charlotte  Rusport  was  called  'a  forward  baggage.' 
The  wooing  is  usually  done  by  the  heroine. 

The  villains  of  Cumberland's  comedies  are  of  two 
kinds.  One  is  the  hesitating,  irresolute  type,  such  as  Lord 


324  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Transit,  Lord  Sensitive,  or  Belfield  Senior,  whose  'whole 
life  [will]  be  employed  in  acts  of  justice  and  atonement.'36 
The  other  is  the  stage  or  melodramatic  villain,  such  as 
Father  Sullivan  and  Don  Pedro.  These  dominate  their 
respective  plays  and  are  exceedingly  effective  on  the  stage. 
An  excellent  example  of  the  repentant  villain  is  Daggerly, 
Father  Sullivan's  accomplice  in  The  Walloons.  Says  he: 
'How  it  stings  me!  curse  on't!  it  is  impossible  to  keep  it 
off — conscience,  thou  devil  eternal,  will  nothing  silence 
thee,  will  nothing  smother  thee  ?  I  have  deceiv'd  myself, 
there  is  an  immortality,  and  thou  art!  O  God!  I  do 
repent.'37 

A  favourite  character  of  Cumberland's  is  the  unattract- 
ive spinster,  such  as  Mrs.  Dorothy,  or  Mrs.  Phoebe 
Latimer,  who  is  'a  virgin  in  the  bloom  of  half  a  hundred; 
vain,  rich,  pedantic,'  or  Lindamira  with  her  eternal  manu- 
script. These  ladies  are  usually  pursued  by  clever  rascals 
who  finally  cheat  them  of  their  fortunes.  The  various 
plays  muster  an  army  of  buffoons  who  seem  sadly  deficient 
in  the  vis  comica,  and  who  range  in  effectiveness  from  the 
brisk  wit  of  Scud,  the  apothecary,  to  the  boring  aphorisms 
of  Peter  and  Andrew  in  The  Confession.  Cumberland's 
comic  scenes  were  partly  induced  by  the  necessity  of  com- 
peting with  the  excellent  humour  of  his  rivals,  Colman 
and  Murphy.  Mr.  Millar  praises  Cumberland's  humor- 
ous scenes.  Henpecked  husbands  are  numerous,  the  excel- 
lent caricature,  Sir  Benjamin  Dove,  being  in  the  lead,  fol- 
lowed by  Sir  Toby  Truckle  of  The  Passive  Husband,  and 
Sir  Solomon  Dangle.  Other  familiar  figures  are  the  bene- 
factor, such  as  Sheva,  Penruddock,  or  Sunderland  in  The 
Note  of  Han.d,  the  adventurer,  such  as  Polycarp  in  The 
Impostors,  and  the  moral  friend,  Sydenham  in  The  Wheel 

3«  The  Brothers,  5.2,  Belfield  Senior. 
37  The  Walloons,  4.3. 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS  325 

of  Fortune  and  Heartright  in  A  Hint  to  Husbands,  serv- 
ing as  examples. 

It  will  seem  that  most  of  these  types  may  be  traced  to 
sources  in  earlier  drama.  Characters  like  Scud,  who  is 
almost  Jonsonian,  and  Beau  Tiffany  in  The  Last  of  the 
Family,  and  plainly  taken  from  Elizabethan  and  Restora- 
tion plays.  Yet  in  several  characters  Cumberland  struck 
fire.  'Es  sind,'  says  Hettner,  Vortreffliche  Charakter- 
skizzen,  die  mit  Recht  die  lebendigste  Theilnahme  fan- 
den.'38  In  Captain  Ironsides,  Belcour,  Colin  Macleod, 
Sheva,  and  Penruddock,  Cumberland  goes  beyond  the 
mediocrity  of  sentimental  comedy.  These  characters  are 
unreal,  yet  possess  elements  of  reality.  Thus  Belcour  is 
a  composite  figure  of  several  deliberately  chosen  attri- 
butes, namely,  licentiousness,  generosity,  and  honour. 
The  result  is  unreal,  but  is  neither  the  x  nor  y  type  into 
which  Mr.  Waterhouse  divides  Cumberland's  characters. 
These  characters  lack  subtlety  and  consistency,  yet  possess 
a  complexity  which  springs  not  from  mature  observation 
of  life,  but  rather  from  a  conscious  selection  of  qualities. 
Dr.  Ward  says  that  Cumberland  'possessed  a  genuine 
power  of  characterization.'3* 

Cumberland  drew  impossible  characters  because  he  was 
an  idealist.  While  far  from  being  insensible  to  the 
applause  of  his  audiences,  he  nevertheless  believed  sin- 
cerely in  the  mission  of  sentimental  comedy  to  reform 
abuses,  and  to  correct  English  prejudices.  To  accom- 
plish this  purpose  he  exhibited  characters  endowed  with 
the  qualities  denied  them  by  popular  report.  Hence  the 
benevolent  Jew,  the  liberal  Scotchman,  or  the  honest 
attorney.  'I  looked,'  he  says,  'into  society  for  the  purpose 
of  discovering  such  as  were  the  victims  of  its  national, 

38  Hettner,  Geschichte  der  englischen  Liter  atur,  1.520. 

39  Lillo,  London  Merchant  and  Fatal  Curiosity,  Ward  ed.,  34. 


326  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

professional,  or  religious  prejudices;  in  short  for  those 
suffering  characters,  which  stood  in  need  of  an  advocate, 
and  out  of  these  I  meditated  to  select  and  form  heroes  for 
my  future  dramas,  of  which  I  would  study  to  make  such 
favourable  and  reconciliatory  delineations,  as  might 
incline  the  spectators  to  look  upon  them  with  pity,  and 
receive  them  into  their  good  opinion  and  esteem/ 

This  basis  of  Cumberland's  sentimental  comedy  is  a 
kind  of  shallow  idealism,  and  the  faults  of  his  plot  and 
character  are  due  to  a  desire  to  show  men  and  women  as 
he  would  wish  them  to  be  rather  than  as  they  are,  and  to 
the  sincere  belief  in  the  didactic  value  of  the  stage.  It 
was  his  faith  in  this  kind  of  drama  which  kept  Cumber- 
land writing  sentimental  comedy  in  the  nineteenth  century, 
and  which  made  him  mistake  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  for 
an  'eccentric  production.'  Cumberland  was  the  upholder 
of  'true'  sentiment.  The  Monthly  Review  for  August, 
1778,  comments  upon  sentiment  in  verse  and  prose: 

First  for  true  grounds  of  sentimental  lore, 
The  scenes  of  modern  comedy  explore; 
Dramatic  homilies!  devout  and  sage, 
Stor'd  with  wise  maxims,  'both  for  youth  and  age.' 


But  chief,  let  Cumberland,  thy  muse  direct; 
High  priest  of  all  the  tragic-comic  sect! 

'.  .  .  To  banish  sentiment  from  the  stage,  would  be  as 
injurious  to  it,  as  to  suffer  it  to  usurp  more  than  it  is  en- 
titled to :  When  sentiment  is  subservient  to  character,  and 
breaks  forth  from  the  humour  and  passions  of  the  Dra- 
matis personae  the  effect  is  as  powerful,  as  it  is  instructive 
and  entertaining.  .  .  .'  'Let  me,'  Cumberland  writes, 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS  327 


'cast  one  dart  at  Prejudice  .  .  .  ,  and  I  shall  call  it  victory, 
if  it  pierces  no  farther  than  the  stroke  which  Abdiel  gave 
Satan.'40 

Cumberland  attacked  evils  of  the  time  not  merely 
through  the  characters,  but  by  means  of  the  dialogue.  In 
a  half-dozen  plays  duelling  is  censured.  A  specimen  of 
the  outbursts  against  this  evil  occurs  in  False  Impressions 
when  Lady  Cypress  exclaims:  'No,  I  regard  a  duellist 
with  horror;  I  hold  him  as  an  agent  of  the  enemy  of 
mankind,  sent  to  disturb  society,  and  rend  the  parent's 
and  the  widow's  hearts  asunder.'41  The  Wheel  of  For- 
tune and  The  Note  of  Hand  are  dramatic  sermons  di- 
rected at  gambling,  and  The  Choleric  Man  impugns  the 
game  laws.  Similarly,  Lady  Transit  condemns  drunken- 
ness in  A  Hint  to  Husbands,  and  the  epilogue  to  False 
Impressions  runs: 

He  writes,  and  ever  to  some  moral  end, 
Because  the  world  is  not  too  good  to  mend. 

A  letter  to  The  Gentleman's  Magazine  for  February, 
1778,  defends  sentimental  comedy,  and  indirectly  indicates 
Cumberland's  position  as  its  leader.  The  communication 
is  headed,  'Animadversions  on  the  Moral  Tendency  of 
the  School  for  Scandal,'  and  says :  'It  has  been  said  that 
this  is  a  second  attempt  to  destroy  the  taste  for  senti- 
mental comedy  revived  by  Mr.  Cumberland.  It  will  be 
readily  acknowledged,  that  the  plays  of  that  gentleman 
may  tend  to  produce  an  affectation  of  sentiment,  but  it  is 
better  to  affect  sentiment  than  vice :  and  Mr.  Cumberland 
has  judiciously  executed  the  whole  duty  of  an  author, 

40  Private  Correspondence  of  David  Garrick,  1.430. 

41  False  Impressions,  3. 


328  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

which  is,  not  only  to  paint  nature,  but  to  paint  such  parts 
of  it,  as  every  good  man  would  wish  to  see  imitated.' 

But  a  review  of  The  Sailor's  Daughter,  one  of  the  last 
plays  written,  in  The  Literary  Journal  of  June  i,  1804, 
shows  the  weakness  of  sentimental  comedy:  'Nothing  has 
tended  more  to  degrade  the  drama  in  the  public  estimation 
than  the  introduction  of  that  sentimental  jargon  which 
more  or  less  defiles  almost  every  comedy  of  our  age.  It 
has  indeed  become  fashionable  with  the  galleries  to 
applaud  the  most  hacknied  and  ridiculous  sentiment,  when 
uttered  with  due  vociferation  and  contortion :  but  this  is 
the  utmost  goal  of  its  fame :  no  one  cares  to  be  twice  the 
hearer  of  these  new  comic  beauties;  to  read  them  twice, 
deprived  as  they  are  of  scenery  and  acting,  is  beyond  all 
human  endurance.  With  such  flowers,  however,  Mr. 
Cumberland  must  be  conscious  that  his  comedies  often 
abound;  and  these,  beautiful  as  he  may  think  them,  will 
prove  the  leaden  weights  which  are  ready  to  sink  most 
of  his  pieces  into  the  deep  gulf  of  oblivion.' 

It  remains  to  say  a  word  concerning  Cumberland's 
plagiarism.  No  one  may  affirm  that  he  stole  recklessly 
or  impudently  from  the  ancients  or  mocferns.  His  scenes 
and  characters  are  influenced,  but  not  dominated,  by  ghosts 
of  the  drama.  On  the  other  hand,  he  followed  the  rules 
of  playwriting  of  the  age,  and,  not  gifted  with  originality, 
he  borrowed  much, — certainly  more  than  he  admitted, 
perhaps  more  than  he  himself  realized. 

'He  has,'  wrote  Walter  Scott,  'written  comedies  at 
which  we  have  cried,  and  tragedies  at  which  we  have 
laughed.'42  (Cumberland's  dramatic  career  of  half  a 
century,  starred  with  comedy,  tragedy,  and  opera,  is  as 
strange  as  his  own  personality.  The  writer  of  fifty-odd 

42  The  Quarterly  Review,  May,  1809. 


CUMBERLAND'S  DRAMAS  329 

plays,  he  survives  as  the  author  of  one,  The  West  Indian, 
and  the  student  may  count  other  plays  of  worth  upon  his 
hand.  Yet  his  position  in  literature,  if  not  high,  is  dis- 
tinct. He  was,  as  Henry  Neele  says,  'the  last  and  the 
best  of  the  Sentimental  School.'43 

43  Lectures  on  English  Poetry,  153. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

NOTE 

This  bibliography  has  two  divisions.  In  the  first  division  are  the 
books  written  by  Richard  Cumberland.  This  part  is  subdivided 
into  dramatic  and  non-dramatic  work.  In  the  second  division 
are  the  books  which  have  reference  to  Cumberland.  The  arrange- 
ment of  the  first  division  is  chronological,  of  the  second, 
alphabetical. 

There  is  no  collected  edition  of  Cumberland's  dramatic  work. 
The  more  successful  plays  may  be  found  in  standard  sets  of 
eighteenth  century  drama.  Others  must  be  read  in  the  first  or 
second  editions.  Excellent  texts  of  the  plays  occur  in:  (1)  A 
Collection  of  Plays,  London,  1774;  (2)  Bell's  British  Theatre, 
London,  1776,  etc.;  (3)  The  British  Drama,  edited  by  Walter 
Scott,  London,  1804,  etc.;  (4)  Mrs.  Inchbald's  British  Theatre, 
London,  1808,  etc.1;  (5)  Steele  and  Gibber's  English  Comedy, 
London,  1810;  (6)  Mrs.  Inchbald's  Modern  Theatre,  London, 
1811,  etc.;  (7)  The  Posthumous  Dramatick  Works  of  Richard 
Cumberland,  London,  1813;  (8)  Dibdin's  London  Theatre,  1815; 
(9)  Oxberry's  Edition  of  Plays,  Boston,  1822;  (10)  The  London 
Stage,  1824;  (11)  Lacy's  Acting  Edition  of  Plays,  London, 
[1850];  and  (12)  John  Cumberland's  British  Theatre,  London, 
1826-32. 

The  list  of  plays  includes  first  editions,  and,  in  some  instances, 
later  publications,  but  does  not,  as  stated  in  the  Preface,  aim  to 
record  all  editions.  At  the  end  of  the  printed  plays  there  follows 
a  list  of  those  unprinted  or  extant  only  in  manuscript.  These,  too, 
are  chronological,  mentioned  in  the  order  of  their  stage  production, 

1  Volume  18  of  this  collection  contains  five  of  Cumberland's  plays,  viz., 
The  Brothers,  The  West  Indian,  The  Jew,  First  Love,  and  The  Wheel 
of  Fortune. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  331 


or,  if  neither  printed  nor  acted,  according  to  the  time  of  composi- 
tion. Bracketed  numbers  following  the  plays  refer  to  the  collected 
editions  of  drama  cited  above. 

In  the  second  division  no  particular  mention  has  been  made  of 
such  works  as  The  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  The 
Encyclopedia  Britannica,  The  Cambridge  History  of  English 
Literature,  or  the  New  English  Dictionary.  The  writer  is  par- 
ticularly indebted  to  the  following  books:  The  Memoirs  of 
Richard  Cumberland,  The  Life  of  Richard  Cumberland  by  Wil- 
liam Mudford,  English  Drama  of  the  Restoration  and  Eighteenth 
Century  by  Professor  George  H.  Nettleton,  and  to  the  two  essays 
by  Mr.  Osborn  Waterhouse  upon  The  Development  of  English 
Sentimental  Comedy  in  the  Eighteenth  Century. 


I.     CUMBERLAND'S  WORKS 

A.     DRAMATIC  WORK 

Shakespear  in  the  Shades.  A  Cento.  [Never  acted.  Composed 
c.  1744.  Selections  printed  in  the  Memoirs,  (1806)  1.  56- 
64.] 

The  Banishment  of  Cicero:  a  tragedy.     London,  1761. 

The  Summer's  Tale,  A  Musical  Comedy  of  Three  Acts,  As  it  is 
Performed  at  the  Theatre  Royal  in  Covent-Garden.  London, 
1765. 

Amelia;  a  musical  entertainment  of  two  acts.  [Altered  and 
abridged  from  The  Summer's  Tale.]  London,  1768.  [An- 
other edition  with  alterations  appeared  at  London  in  1771.] 

The  Brothers;  A  Comedy.  As  it  is  performed  at  the  Theatre 
Royal  in  Covent-Garden.  London,  1770.  [2;  3;  4;  5;  8; 
10.] 

The  West  Indian :  A  Comedy.  As  it  is  Performed  at  the  Theatre 
Royal  in  Drury-Lane.  London,  1771.  [This  play  had  at 
least  two  other  editions  in  1771,  and  one  in  1772.  A  German 
translation  appeared  at  Hamburg  in  1772,  and  a  French 


332  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

version  (L'Americain)  at  Paris  in  1822.]  [1;  2;  3;  4;  5; 
8.] 

Timon  of  Athens,  Altered  from  Shakespear.  A  Tragedy.  As  it 
is  Acted  at  the  Theatre-Royal  in  Drury-Lane.  London,  1771. 

The  Fashionable  Lover ;  A  Comedy :  As  it  is  acted  at  the  Theatre- 
Royal  in  Drury-Lane.  London,  1772.  [At  least  three  other 
editions  of  this  play  appeared  in  1772.  A  German  version 
was  printed  at  Leipzig  in  1774.]  [1;  2;  8;  10.] 

The  Note  of  Hand ;  or  Trip  to  Newmarket.  As  it  is  acted  at  the 
Theatre-Royal  in  Drury-Lane.  London,  1774. 

The  Choleric  Man,  A  Comedy.  As  it  is  performed  at  the  Theatre- 
Royal  in  Drury-Lane.  London,  1775.  [2] 

The  Battle  of  Hastings:  a  tragedy.  As  it  is  acted  at  the  Theatre- 
Royal  in  Drury-Lane.  London,  1778.  [2] 

Calypso;  A  Masque,  In  three  Acts.  As  it  is  performed  at  the 
Theatre-Royal  in  Covent-Garden.  London,  1779. 

The  Widow  of  Delphi  or,  the  Descent  of  the  Deities,  A  Musical 
Drama,  of  Five  acts,  As  it  is  performed  at  the  Theatre- 
Royal  in  Covent  Garden.  London,  1780.  [Only  the  Songs 
were  printed.] 

The  Mysterious  Husband.  A  Tragedy  in  Five  Acts,  As  it  is 
acted  at  the  Theatre-Royal,  Covent-Garden.  London,  1783. 
[6;  10.] 

The  Carmelite:  A  Tragedy.  Performed  at  the  Theatre  Royal 
Drury  Lane.  London,  1784.  [A  German  translation  was 
printed  at  Berlin  and  Leipzig  in  1787.]  [2;  3;  6;  10.] 

The  Natural  Son:  A  Comedy.  Performed  at  the  Theatre  Royal 
Drury  Lane.  London,  1785.  [2;  6.] 

The  Impostors:  A  Comedy.  Performed  at  the  Theatre  Royal 
Drury  Lane.  London,  1789.  [6.] 

The  Armourer.  Songs  ...  in  the  comic  opera  of  the  Armourer. 
London,  1793. 

The  Box  Lobby  Challenge,  A  Comedy.  As  performed  at  the 
Theatre-Royal,  Hay-Market.  London,  1794.  [6.] 

The  Jew:  A  Comedy.  Performed  at  the  Theatre-Royal,  Drury- 
Lane.  London,  1794.  [Five  editions  of  The  Jew  were 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  333 


printed  before  1796.     The  seventh  edition  appeared  in  1801. 
A  German  translation  was  printed  at  Konigsberg  in  1798.] 
[4;  10;  11;  12.] 
The  Wheel  of  Fortune:  A  Comedy.     Performed  at  the  Theatre 

Royal,  Drury-Lane.     London,  1795.     [4;  10;  11;  12.] 
First  Love :  A  Comedy.     Performed  at  the  Theatre-Royal,  Drury- 
Lane.    London,  1795.     [2;  3;  4;  10.] 
The  Days  of  Yore:  A  Drama  in  Three  Acts.     Performed  at  the 

Theatre-Royal,  Covent-Garden.     London,  1796. 
False  Impressions:  A  Comedy,  In  Five  Acts.     Performed  at  the 

Theatre  Royal,  Covent  Garden.    London,  1797.     [6;  10.] 
The  Clouds.     1797.     See  Non-dramatic  Work. 
Joanna  of  Montfaucon ;  A  Dramatic  Romance  of  the  Fourteenth 
Century:    As    performed    at    the    Theatre-Royal,    Covent- 
Garden.     London,  1800. 

The  Sailor's  Daughter:  A  Comedy.    London,  1804. 
A  Hint  to  Husbands:  A  Comedy,  In  Five  Acts,  Now  performing 

at  the  Theatre-Royal,  Covent  Garden.     London,  1806. 
The  Jew  of  Mogadore,  A  Comic  Opera,  In  Three  Acts.    London, 

1808. 
Twelve   of    Cumberland's    plays    appeared    in    The    Posthumous 

Dramatick  Works  of  Richard  Cumberland,  in  1813: 
The  Sybil,  or  the  Elder  Brutus;  a  Tragedy.     [Acted  1818.] 
The  Walloons;  a  Comedy.     [Acted  1782.] 
The  Confession ;  a  Play  in  Five  Acts. 
The   Passive    Husband;   a   Comedy.      [A   Word   for   Nature. 

Acted  1798.] 
Tor  rend  al ;  a  Tragedy. 
Lovers'  Resolutions. 

Alcanor ;  a  Tragedy.  [The  Arab.  Acted  1785.] 
The  Eccentric  Lover;  a  Comedy.  [Acted  1798.] 
Tiberius  in  Capreae. 

The  Last  of  the  Family;  a  Comedy.     [Acted  1797.] 
Don  Pedro;  a  Play  in  Five  Acts.     [Acted  1796.] 
The  False  Demetrius. 


334  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Palamon  and  Arcite.  [The  manuscript  of  this  play  is  in  The 
British  Museum  and  was  presumably  written  towards  the 
end  of  Cumberland's  life.] 

UNPUBLISHED  PLAYS 

The  Princess  of  Parma,  A  Tragedy.     [1778.] 

The  Election,  an  Entertainment.     [1778.] 

The  Elders.      [1778.     This  play  is  ascribed  to  Cumberland  by 

The  Thespian  Dictionary.] 
The  Bondman,  a  Tragedy.     [1779.] 
The  Duke  of  Milan,  a  Tragedy.     [1779.] 
The  Country  Attorney,  a  Comedy.     [1787.     See  the  School  for 

Widows.] 
The   School    for   Widows.      [1789.     An    altered    form   of   The 

Country  Attorney.] 
The  Occasional  Prelude.     [1792.] 
The  Dependant,  a  Comedy.     [1795.] 
The  Village  Fete,  an  Interlude.     [1797.] 
The  Victory  and  Death  of  Lord  Nelson.     [1805.] 
The  Robber.     [1809.] 
The  Widow's  Only  Son.     [1810.] 

PLAYS  NEITHER  ACTED  NOR  PUBLISHED 

Caractacus.     [This  play  was  written  c.  1760  but  was  not  acted; 

the  manuscript  was  in  Cumberland's  possession  in  1804.] 
The  Days  of  Geri.     [This  play  is  mentioned  by  Scott  in  a  list  of 

Cumberland's  plays.      See   the   Novels  of   Swift,   Bage   and 

Cumberland     (Ballantynes    Novelist's    Library)     'Prefatory 

Memoir  to  Cumberland,'  59.] 

B.     NON-DRAMATIC  WORK 

A  letter  to  the  Bishop  of  O[xfor]d.  Containing  some  animad- 
versions upon  a  character  given  by  Dr.  Lowth  of  the  late 
Dr.  Bentley.  London,  1767. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  335 


Odes.     London,  1776. 

Miscellaneous  Poems,  consisting  of  elegies,  odes,  pastorals,  &c., 
to-gether  with  Calypso,  a  masque.  London,  1778. 

Anecdotes  of  eminent  painters  in  Spain,  during  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries  with  cursory  remarks  upon  the  present 
state  of  arts  in  that  Kingdom.  2  vols.  London,  1782. 

A  letter  to  Richard,  Lord  Bishop  of  Llandaff,  on  the  subject  of 
his  Lordship's  letter  to  the  late  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 
London,  1783. 

The  Observer.  1  vol.  London,  1785.  [Another  edition  in  5  vols. 
was  published  at  London,  1786.  The  fifth  edition,  in  1798, 
was  newly  arranged  with  a  translation  of  The  Clouds.] 

Character  of  the  late  Lord  Viscount  Sackville.     London,  1785. 

An  accurate  and  descriptive  catalogue  of  the  several  paintings  in 
the  King  of  Spain's  Palace  at  Madrid ;  with  some  account 
of  the  pictures  in  the  Buen-Retiro.  London,  1787. 

Arundel.  2  vols.  London,  1789.  [A  second  edition  appeared 
in  1795,  and  a  French  translation  at  Paris,  in  1799(  ?).] 

Curtius  rescued  from  the  Gulph;  or  the  Retort  courteous  to  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Parr;  in  answer  to  his  learned  pamphlet  [against 
the  Rev.  C.  Curtis]  intitled,  "A  Sequel,"  .  .  .  London, 
1792. 

Henry.  A  novel.  London,  1795.  [See  also  the  Novels  of  Swift, 
Bage  and  Cumberland  (Ballantyne's  Novelist's  Library), 
Edinburgh,  1824.  'Prefatory  Memoir  to  Cumberland'  by 
Walter  Scott.] 

MS.  Notes,  [by  R.  C.]     London,  1800. 

Calvary;  or  The  Death  of  Christ.  Burlington,  1795.  [The  eighth 
edition  of  this  poem  was  published  at  London  in  1811.] 

An  entire  translation  of  the  comedy  of  The  Clouds.  [The 
Observer.  Vol.  6.]  1798. 

Richard  the  first:  a  poem.  [By  Sir  James  B.  Burges,  .  .  .  con- 
taining corrections  and  emendations  suggested  by  R.  C.,  etc.] 
[1800.] 

A  poetical  version  of  certain  psalms  of  David.     1801. 

Lucani  Pharsalia.     [ed.  by  Cumberland,  R.]     London,  1801. 


336  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

A  few  plain  reasons  why  we  should  believe  in  Christ  and  adhere 
to  his  religion.  London,  1801. 

Memoirs  of  Richard  Cumberland,  Written  by  Himself,  contain- 
ing An  Account  of  His  Life  and  Writings,  Interspersed  with 
Anecdotes  and  Characters  of  several  of  the  most  Distinguished 
Persons  of  his  Time,  With  Whom  He  has  had  Intercourse  and 
Connexion.  London,  1806.  [This  book  contains  a  portrait 
of  R.  C.  To  this  volume  was  added  in  1807  a  Supplement 
and  an  Index.  A  second  edition,  including  the  Supplement 
and  a  different  portrait  of  Cumberland  was  printed  in  Lon- 
don in  1807,  in  two  volumes.  It  has  been  found  convenient 
to  use  this  edition  in  the  present  work.  Another  edition,  with 
Illustrative  Notes  by  Henry  Flanders,  was  published  in  Phila- 
delphia in  1856,  adding,  however,  little  of  value  to  the 
original  book.] 

The  Exodiad.  A  poem.  By  the  authors  of  Calvary  [R.  C.]  and 
Richard  the  first  [James  B.  Burges.]  London,  1807. 

John  De  Lancaster.    A  Novel.     3  vols.     London,  1809. 

The  London  Review.  [Conducted  by  R.  C.]  1  vol.  London, 
1809. 

Retrospection,  A  Poem,  In  Familiar  Verse.     New  York,  1812. 

Comicorum  Graecorum  Fragmenta,  quae  Anglicis  versibus  olim 
reddidit  R.  Cumberland.  Cambridge,  1840. 

Memoirs  of  Velasquez  [Printed  in  The  Works  of  Velasquez  by 
George  W.  Reid.]  London,  1872. 


II.    WORKS  HAVING  REFERENCE  TO  CUMBERLAND 

[Periodicals  are  included  in  this  list.  Of  these  only  the  place 
of  publication  has  been  given.  The  dates  of  specific  magazines, 
from  which  excerpts  have  been  made,  may  be  found  in  the  text 
and  notes,  passim.] 

Adolphus,  John.     Memoirs  of  John  Bannister.     2  vols.     London, 

1839. 
Aikin's  Annual  Review,  London. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  337 


The  Analytical  Review,  London. 

The  Anti-Jacobin  Review,  London. 

Archer,  William.     About  the  Theatre.     London,  1886. 

Armstrong,  Cecil  F.     Shakespeare  to  Shaw.     London,  1913. 

Bagehot,  Walter.     Literary  Studies.     2  vols.     London,  1879. 

Baker,  David  E.  Biographia  Dramatica;  or,  A  Companion  to  the 
Playhouse.  .  .  .  Originally  compiled,  to  the  year  1704,  by 
David  Erskine  Baker.  Continued  thence  to  1782,  by  Isaac 
Reed,  F.A.S.  And  brought  down  to  the  End  of  November 
1811  .  .  .  by  Stephen  Jones.  3  vols.  [Vol.  1,  in  two  parts, 
is  usually  bound  separately.]  London,  1812. 

Baker,  George  P.  Unpublished  Correspondence  of  David  Gar- 
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Baker,  Henry  Barton.  History  of  the  London  Stage  and  its 
Famous  Players.  2  vols.  London,  1889.  [References  are  to 
the  edition  of  London  and  New  York,  1904.] 

Our  Old  Actors.    2  vols.     London,  1878. 

Barker,  Edmund  H.     Literary  Anecdotes.     London,  1852. 

Beavan,  Arthur  H.     James  and  Horace  Smith.     London,  1899. 

Beloe,  William.  The  Sexagenarian;  or,  The  recollections  of  a 
literary  life.  2  vols.  London,  1817. 

Bernbaum,  Ernest.  The  Drama  of  Sensibility.  Boston  and  Lon- 
don, 1915. 

Bibliotheca  Sacra,  Andover,  etc. 

Birrell,  Augustine.  Men,  Women,  and  Books.  London,  1894. 
[References  are  to  the  New  York  edition  of  1894.] 

Blackwood's  Edinburgh  Magazine,  Edinburgh  and  London. 

Boaden,  James.     Life  of  Mrs.  Jordan.     2  vols.     London,   1831. 

[References  are  to  the  second  edition,  1831.] 
—Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  John  Philip  Kemble.    2  vols.     Lon- 
don, 1825.     [References  are  to  the  edition  of  2  vols.  in  1, 
Philadelphia,  1825.] 

—Memoirs  of  Mrs.  Siddons.     Interspersed  with  anecdotes  of 
authors  and  actors.     London,  1827. 

Boswell,  James.  Letters  addressed  to  the  Rev.  W.  J.  Temple. 
London,  1857. 


338  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Life  of  Samuel  Johnson.     Ed.  by  Hill,  George  B.     6  vols. 

Oxford,  1887.     [References  are  to  the  New  York  edition  of 

1889.] 

The  British  Critic,  London. 
The  British  Magazine,  London. 
The  British  Review,  London. 

Brydges,  Egerton.    Autobiography  of.     2  vols.     London,  1834. 
Byron,  Works  of.     Ed.  by  Moore,  Thomas.     14  vols.     London, 

1832. 

The  Cabinet,  London. 
The  Cabinet  of  Polite  Literature,  London. 

Campbell,  Thomas.    Life  of  Mrs.  Siddons.    2  vols.  London,  1834. 
Canby,  Henry  S.    The  Short  Story.    New  York,  1902. 
Candidus.     The  Theater,  or  The  Letters  of  Candidus.     Edin- 
burgh, 1802. 
Chamberlain,  Arthur  B.     George  Romney.     London  and  New 

York,  1910. 
Clayden,  Peter  W.    Early  Life  of  Samuel  Rogers.    London,  1887. 

[References  are  to  the  Boston  edition  of  1888.] 

Rogers  and  His  Contemporaries.     2  vols.     London,  1889. 

Colman,  Francis,  and  Colman,  George,  the  Elder.     Posthumous 

Letters.    London,  1820. 
Colman,  George,  the  Elder.     Memoirs  of  Sylvester  Daggerwood. 

London,  1806. 

Constable,  Thomas.    Archibald  Constable  and  His  Literary  Corre- 
spondents.   3  vols.     Edinburgh,  1873. 
The  Court  Miscellany,  London. 
Cowper,  William.     Correspondence  of.     By  Wright,  Thomas.    4 

vols.    London,  1904. 

Works  of.     Southey  edition,  8  vols.     London,  1853. 

Coxe,  William.     Memoirs  of  Horatio,  Lord  Walpole.     2  vols. 

London,  1820. 
Cradock,  Joseph..   Literary  and  Miscellaneous  Memoirs  of.    4  vols. 

London,  1828. 
Craik,  George  L.     Compendious  History  of  English  Literature 

and  of  the  English  Language,  from  the  Norman  Conquest; 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  339 


with  specimens.  2  vols.  London,  1861.  [References  are  to 
the  New  York  edition  of  1863.] 

The  Critical  Review,  London. 

The  Cumberland  Letters,  Being  the  Correspondence  of  Richd 
Dennison  Cumberland  and  George  Cumberland  between  the 
Years  1771  and  1784,  ed.  by  Black,  Clementina.  London, 
1912. 

D'Arblay,  Madame.  Diary  and  Letters  of.  (1778-1840.)  Ed. 
by  Barrett,  Charlotte.  Preface  and  Notes  by  Dobson,  Austin. 
6  vols.  London,  1904. 

Davies,  Thomas.  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  David  Garrick.  Lon- 
don, 1780. 

Delany,  Mrs.  Mary  Granville.  The  autobiography  and  corre- 
spondence of  Maxy  Granville,  Mrs.  Delany.  3  vols.  Lon- 
don, 1861. 

Dibdin,  Charles  A.  A  complete  History  of  the  English  Stage. 
London  [1800]. 

Dibdin,  Mr.  [Charles  A.].  The  professional  Life  of,  written  by 
himself  .  .  .  London,  1803. 

Dibdin,  Thomas  J.  Reminiscences  of  the  Theatre  Royal,  Covent 
Garden,  Drury  Lane,  etc.  2  vols.  London,  1827. 

Dobson,  Austin.  Life  of  Oliver  Goldsmith.  (Great  Writers 
Series.)  London,  1888. 

Doran,  John.  Annals  of  the  English  Stage.  2  vols.  London, 
1865.  [References  are  to  the  New  York  edition  of  1865.] 

Drake,  Nathan.  Essays  Illustrative  of  the  Tatler,  Spectator,  and 
Guardian.  3  vols.  London,  1805. 

Literary  Hours.     3  vols.     London,  1804. 

Dramatic  Censor;  or,  Critical  Companion.  [By  Francis  Gentle- 
man.] 2  vols.  London,  1770. 

Dramaticus,  Censor.  A  Complete  History  of  the  Drama.  Lon- 
don, 1793. 

The  Dramatic  Souvenir.     London,  1833. 

Dunham,  Samuel  A.  Eminent  Literary  and  Scientific  Men  of 
Great  Britain  and  Ireland  (The  Cabinet  Encyclopedia). 
3  vols.  London,  1836. 


340  RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Dunlap,   William.      Memoirs  of   the   Life  of   George   Frederick 

Cooke.    2  vols.    London,  1813.     [References  are  to  the  New 

York  edition  of  1813.] 
Earle,  William.     Sheridan's  Life  and  Times,  by  an  Octogenarian. 

London,  1859. 

The  Edinburgh  Review,  London. 
Edwin,    Eccentricities   of  John,    Comedian,   ed.   by    Pasquin,   A. 

2  vols.    Dublin,  1791. 
English  Comic  Dramatists,  ed.  by  Crawfurd,  Oswald  J.    London, 

1883.     [References  are  to  the  New  York  edition  of  1884.] 
The  English  Review,  London. 
The  European  Magazine,  London. 
Fehler,   Kurt.      Richard    Cumberland.      Leben   und    dramatische 

Werke,  ein  Beitrag  zur  Geschichte  des  englischen  Dramas  in 

18  Jahrhundert.    Erlangen,  1911. 
Fitzgerald,  Percy.     Lives  of  the  Sheridans.     London,  1887. 

A  new  History  of  the  English  Stage.    2  vols.    London,  1882. 

Samuel  Foote,  a  Biography.     London,  1910. 

Foote,  Samuel.    Works  of.     Bee  edition.    3  vols.     London,  1830. 
Forshall,  Frederick  H.     Westminster  School  Past  and  Present. 

London,  1884. 
Forster,  John.     Life  and  Adventures  of  Oliver  Goldsmith.     A 

biography.    4  vols.     London,  1848. 
Foster,  John.     Contributions  to  The  Eclectic  Review.     2  vols. 

London,  1844. 

Garrick,  David.     Private  Correspondence  of,  with  the  most  cele- 
brated persons  of  his  time.     2  vols.     London,  1831-32. 
Gaussen,  Alice  C.  C.  [editor].    A  Later  Pepys.    2  vols.    London 

and  New  York,  1904. 
The  General  Magazine,  London. 
Genest,  John.     Some  Account  of   the   English   Stage,   from  the 

Restoration  in  1660  to  1830.    10  vols.    Bath,  1832. 
The  Gentleman's  and  Lady's  Weekly  Magazine,  London. 
The  Gentleman's  Magazine,  London. 


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Goldsmith,  Oliver,,  Miscellaneous  Works  of.  Ed.  by  Prior, 
James.  4  vols.  London,  1837. 

Works  of.    Ed.  by  Cunningham,  Peter.     10  vols.    New  York 

and  London,  1908. 
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Essay  on  the  Theatre;  or,  A  Comparison  between  Laughing 

and  Sentimental  Comedy.  [First  published  in  The  West- 
minster Magazine  for  December,  1772.  The  essay  is  now 
included  in  Dobson's  edition  of  Goldsmith's  plays  (Belles- 
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Gosse,  Edmund  W.  A  History  of  Eighteenth  Century  Litera- 
ture (1660-1780).  London  and  New  York,  1889. 

Hayley,  William.     Life  of  George  Romney.     Chichester,  1809. 

Hazlitt,  William.  Conversations  of  James  Northcote.  London, 
1830. 

Lectures  on   the   English   Comic   Writers.      London,    1819. 

[References  are  to  the  London  edition  of  1841.] 

Memoirs  of  the  late  Thomas  Holcroft.     3  vols.     London, 

1816. 

Henderson,  John.  Letters  and  poems.  With  anecdotes  of  his 
Life.  Ed.  by  Ireland,  John.  London,  1786. 

Hettner,  Hermann  J.  Literaturgeschichte  des  achtzehnten 
Jahrhunderts.  [See  especially  Part  One.]  (Die  Englische 
Literatur  von  1660-1770.)  Braunschweig,  1872. 

Hitchman,  Francis.  Richard  Cumberland.  (Eighteenth  Century 
Studies.)  London,  1881. 

Jeffrey,  Francis.  Memoirs  of  Richard  Cumberland.  [The  Edin- 
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Johnson,  Samuel.  Letters  of.  Ed.  by  Hill,  George  B.  2  vols. 
New  York,  1892. 

Kelly,  Hugh.    Works  of.     London,  1778. 

Kelly,  Michael.     Reminiscences  of.     2  vols.     New  York,  1826. 

Knight,  Joseph.     David  Garrick.     London,  1894. 

The  Lady's  Magazine,  London. 

The  Lady's  Monthly  Museum,  London. 


342_ RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Lewes,  Charles  L.     Memoirs  of,  Written  by  Himself.     4  vols. 

London,  1805. 
Lewes,  George  H.    Life  of  Goethe.     London,  1855.     [References 

are  to  the  London  edition  of  1890.] 
Lillo,    George.      The    London    Merchant,    or    The    History    of 

George    Barnwell,    and    Fatal    Curiosity.      Ed.    by    Ward, 

Adolphus  W.   (Belles-Lettres  Series).     Boston  and  London, 

1906. 

The  Literary  Journal,  London. 
The  Literary  Panorama,  London. 
Lloyd's  Evening  Post,  London. 
The  London  Chronicle. 
The  London  Courier. 
The  London  Examiner. 
The  London  Magazine. 
The  London  Quarterly  Review. 
The  London  Review. 
The  London  Times. 

Macauley,  Elizabeth  W.    Tales  of  the  Drama.    London,  1822. 
Macready,  William  C.    Diaries  of  (1833-51).    Ed.  by  Toynbee, 

William.    2  vols.     London,  1912. 
Mathews,  Mrs.  Charles.     Memoirs  of  Charles  Mathews.    2  vols. 

London,  1838-39.     [References  are  to  the  Philadelphia  edition 

of  1839.] 
Meakin,  Annette  M.  B.     Hannah  More.    A  Biographical  Study. 

London,  1911. 
Melcombe,  George  Bubb  Dodington,  Baron.     The  Diary  of  the 

late.  London,  1809. 
The  Mentor,  Edinburgh. 
Meredith,  George.  An  Essay  on  Comedy  and  the  uses  of  the 

Comic  Spirit.     London,  1897.     [References  are  to  the  New 

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Millar,  John   H.     The   Mid-Eighteenth   Century.     New  York, 

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Mitford,  Mary  R.    Recollections  of  a  Literary  Life.    New  York, 

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Montagu,  Lady  Mary  Wortley.     The  Letters  of.     Ed.  by  Hale, 

Mrs.     Boston,  1869. 
The  Monthly  Review,  London. 
Moore,   Frank   F.     Life  of  Oliver  Goldsmith.     London,    1910. 

[References  are  to  the  New  York  edition  of  1911.] 
Moore,   Thomas.      Life   of   Sheridan.     2   vols.      London,    1825. 

[References  are  to  the  Philadelphia  edition  of  1826.] 
— Memoirs,  Journal,  and  Correspondence  of.     Ed.  by  Russell, 

John.    8  vols.    London,  18 S3. 
Mudford,  William.    Life  of  Richard  Cumberland,  Esq.  embracing 

A  Critical  Examination  of  His  Various  Writings.     London, 

1812. 

[Mr.  Leslie  Stephen's  designation  of  this  work  as  'an  impudent 
piece  of  book-making'  is  final.  The  book  contains  a  number  of 
Cumberland's  letters,  hitherto  unpublished,  and  written  while  he 
was  Secretary  to  the  Board  of  Trade.  These  are,  however,  of 
dubious  worth.] 
Murphy,  Arthur.  Life  of  David  Garrick.  2  vols.  London, 

1801. 

Neele,  Henry.     Lectures  on  English  Poetry.     London,  1829. 
Nettleton,   George  H.     English   Drama  of  the  Restoration  and 

Eighteenth  Century  (1642-1780).    New  York,  1914. 
The  New  Monthly  Magazine,  London. 
Newman,   John    H.      Letters   and   Correspondence   of.      Ed.   by 

Mozley,  Anne.    2  vols.     London,  1890. 
Nichols,  John  B.     Literary  Anecdotes  of  the  Eighteenth  Century. 

9  vols.     London,  1812-16. 

Illustrations  of  the  Literary  History  of  the  Eighteenth  Cen- 
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Northcote,  James.     Memoirs  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.     London, 

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Notes  and  Queries,  London. 

O'Keeffe,  John.     Recollections  of.     2  vols.     London,  1826. 
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Oxberry's  [William]    Dramatic  Biography.     London,   1826. 
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Prior,  James.    Life  of  Oliver  Goldsmith.    2  vols.     London,  1837. 
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Robinson,   John   R.,   and    Hunter,    H.     Life   of   Robert  Coates. 

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Mrs.  Hannah  More.     2  vols.     London,  1834.     [References 

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The  St.  James  Chronicle,  London. 
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Scot's  Magazine,  Edinburgh. 

Scott,  Walter.    Journal  of.     2  vols.     Edinburgh,  1890.     [Refer- 
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See  also  Novels  of  Swift,  Bage  and  Cumberland. 
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and  London,  1888. 
Sheridan,  Richard  B.    The  Major  dramas  of.     Ed.  by  Nettleton, 

George  H.  (Atheneum  Press  Series).    Boston  and  New  York, 

1906. 
Sheridaniana;   or,    Anecdotes   of    the    Life   of    Richard    Brinsley 

Sheridan;  His  Table-Talk,  and  Bon  Mots.     London,  1826. 
Sichel,  Walter.     Sheridan.    2  vols.     London,  1909. 
Smiles,  Samuel.     Memoir  and  Correspondence  of  the  late  John 

Murray.    2  vols.     London  and  New  York,  1891. 
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Smith,  James.     Memoirs,  Letters,  and  Comic  Miscellanies  of  the 

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Stephen,  Leslie.    English  Literature  and  Society  in  the  Eighteenth 

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Hours  in  a  Library.    3  vols.     London,  1874-79. 


346 RICHARD  CUMBERLAND 

Stuart,  Letters  of  Lady  Louisa  to  Miss  Louisa  Clinton.     Ed.  by 

Howe,  James  H.     Edinburgh,  1901-03. 
Taylor,  John.    Records  of  My  Life.    New  York,  1833. 
Temple  Bar.    June,  1879.    Richard  Cumberland.     [Anonymous.] 
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Thompson,  Henry.    Life  of  Hannah  More.    2  vols.    London  and 

Edinburgh,  1838.     [References  are  to  the  Philadelphia  edi- 
tion of  1858.] 
Thorndyke,  Ashley  H.    Tragedy.     (Types  of  English  Literature.) 

Ed.  by  Neilson,  William  A.     Boston  and  New  York,  1908. 
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The  Town  and  Country  Magazine,  London. 
Tuckerman,  Bayard.     A  History  of  English  Prose  Fiction  from 

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The  Universal  Museum,  London. 
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BIBLIOGRAPHY  347 


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1806. 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Abel,  K.  F.,  41-2 

Abington,  Mrs.,  84-5 

Addison,  Joseph,  212 

Adelphi  (Terence),  112 

Adolphus,  J.,  147,  147  n,  235 

Adventurer,  The,  220 

Aeschylus,  216 

Affectation,  228 

Aikin,  James,  57,  259 

Alcanor,  303.    See  The  Arab 

Alfred  (Home),  155 

All  In  the  Wrong  (Murphy),  165  n 

Amelia,  43,  303 

Anacreon,  280  n,  281 

Analytical  Review,  The,  232,  307 

Anecdotes   of   eminent   Painters   in 

Spain,  185-6,  186  n 
Anecdotes  of  Painting  in  England 

(Walpole),  185  n 

Animated  Nature  (Goldsmith),  132 
Anti-Jacobin  Review,  The,  271 
Arab,  The,  63,  206,  303,  321 
Aristophanes,    146,    156,    218,    255. 

See  The  Clouds 
Aristotle,  150 

Armageddon  (Townsend),  274 
Armourer,  The,  229,  303 
Arne,  T.  A.,  41-2 
Arnold,  Samuel,  41-2 
Artaxerxes  (Arne),  260  n 
Arundel,  226-7,  245,  248-9 
Ashby,  Edmund,  16 
Asturias,  Princess  of,  180 
Ausonius,  12 
Austen,  Jane,  264 
Autobiography   (Brydges),  277 
Avarice,  228 


Bach,  J.  S.,  41-2 

Badcock,  William,  300 

Bailey,  James,  218 

Baker,  Sir  George,  192 

Baltimore,  Lord,  70 

Banishment   of    Cicero,    The,   34  n, 

39-40,  45,  47,  61,  304,  321 
Bannister,  John,  185,  235,  253,  260- 

3 
Barnard,   Dr.  Thomas,   127,   127  n, 

130-1,  135  n 
Barnes,  Joshua,  10 
Barry,  Mrs.,  34,  34  n,  82,  98 
Barry,  Spranger,  82-3,  98 
Battle  of  Hastings,  The,  109,  136- 

43,    144  n,    147,    150,    155,   279, 

305,  321-2 
Beattie,  James,  105 
Beauclerc,  Topham,  135,  169 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  54,  54  n 
Beckett,  Mr.,  118 
Beckford,  William,  31,  31  n 
Bell's  British  Dramatists,  290 
Bell's  Travels,  249 
Bensley,  Robert,  225,  225  n 
Bentinck,  Edward,  288  n,  300 
Bentinck,  Lady  Edward.    See  Cum- 
berland, Elizabeth 
Bentley,  Joanna.     See  Cumberland, 

Mrs.   (mother) 
Bentley,  Richard   (grandfather),  3- 

10,    19,   19  n,  48,   61,  217,  282, 

288  n,  306 
Bentley,      Dr.     Richard      (father's 

cousin),  19,  19  n 
Bentley,  Richard  (uncle),  134,  155, 

198,  222  n 


352 


INDEX 


Betterton,  Miss,  255 

Betterton,  Thomas,  153 

Bickerstaff,  Isaac,  41-3,  50,  73,  84 

Biggin,  Mrs.,  287 

Biographia  Dramatica,  40,  42,  95, 
142,  205,  242,  293,  302-4,  304  n 

Black  Dwarf,  The  (Scott),  240  n 

Blacket,  Joseph,  290  n 

Blanca,  Florida,  172,  175-6,  180-1, 
182  n 

Blashford,  Lord,  268 

Blue  Stocking  Club,  197-8 

Boaden,  James,  on  Parsons  as  Sir 
Fretful  Plagiary,  149;  on  The 
Observer,  211;  on  The  Coun- 
try Attorney,  224;  on  The  Jew, 
231,  237;  his  tribute  to  Kemble 
in  The  Wheel  of  Fortune,  240- 
1 ;  on  The  Dependant,  253  ;  on 
A  Word  for  Nature,  255; 
mentioned,  257-8,  298 

Boddington  and  Sharpe,  286-7 

Bondman,  The  (Massinger),  153, 
303 

Bonwicke,  James,  7 

Boswell,  James,  101,  120,  159-60, 
162,  164,  184,  264 

Bourne,  Vincent,  12 

Box  Lobby  Challenge,  The,  230, 
306,  315,  318 

Boyle-Bentley  Controversy,  22,  178n 

British  Chronicle,  The,  85 

British  Coffee-House,  The,  47  n,  93, 
93  n,  94  n,  121,  161,  169 

British  Critic,  The,  234,  270,  294 

British  Essayists,  The,  221 

British  Magazine,  The,  194-5 

British  Museum,  267  n,  269  n,  304  n 

British  Review,  The,  211-2,  276 

Brooks,  Mrs.,  224,  224  n 

Brothers,  The,  46-59,  61,  63,  65-8, 
91,  142,  154,  305,  308,  310,  312, 
315-6 

Brutus,  178  n 


Brydges,  Sir  Egerton,  277,  277  n, 
285  n 

Bullick,  governor  of  Georgia,  118-9 

Burges,  Sir  J.  B.,  267,  267  n,  271-2, 
282,  286,  297 

Burke,  Edmund,  33,  68,  105-6,  126- 
7,  130,  169,  170-1,  184 

Burke,  Richard,  71,  127,  127  n 

Burncy,  Doctor,  251 

Burney,  Fanny,  her  description  of 
Cumberland,  1;  Cumberland's 
dislike  of,  164-9;  interview 
with  the  King,  192-3;  on  The 
Observer,  221 ;  Cumberland 
offers  assistance  to,  251-2;  men- 
tioned, 117,  129,  180,  196,  198, 
211,  299,  299  n 

Bury  St.  Edmund  School,  8-12,  14 

Byrom,  John,  6-7 

Byrom,  Phebe,  7 

Byron,  Lord,  2,  257  n,  264,  274-5 

Byron,  Mrs.,  163 

Cabinet,  The,  286 

Cabinet  of  Polite  Literature,  The, 
312 

Calvary,  269,  279 

Calypso,  151-2,  155,  305 

Cambridge  University.  Trinity 
College.  See  Trinity  College 

Cambridge,  R.  O.,  114,  199 

Camden,  William,  12 

'Candidus,'  98,  98  n,  100 

Canterbury,  Archbishop  of,  268 

Capricious  Lovers,  The  (Lloyd), 
42,  42  n 

Caractacus,  23,  156 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  264 

Carmelite,  The,  145  n,  200-4,  214, 
321-2 

Cato  (Addison),  11 

Centlivre,  Mrs.,  98 

Character  of  the  late  Lord  Vis- 
count Sackville,  191 


INDEX 


353 


Chatham,  Lord,  158 

Cherry,  Andrew,  57,  57  n 

Chesterfield,  Earl  of,  31,  31  n 

Choleric  Man,  The,  111-3,  327 

Cholmondeley,  Mrs.,  165,  165  n,  167 

Church-yard  Elegy,  written  on  St. 
Mark's  Eve,  29 

Churchill,  Charles,  13,  44 

Cibber,  Colley,  84,  85  n,  98  n,  217, 
310,  315,  323 

Cibber,  Mrs.,  16-7,  34  n 

Clarissa  Harloive  (Richardson), 
96,  215 

Clarke,  Hewson,  281-2 

Clayden,  P.  W. 

Clive,  Kitty,  55,  85,  85  n 

Clonfert,  Bishop  of.  Sec  Cumber- 
land, Denison 

Clouds,  The  (Aristophanes),  Cum- 
berland's translation  of,  218, 
221,  255,  304 

Coelebs  (More),  278-80 

Cole,  William,  196 

Coleridge,  S.  T.,  264 

Colin  and  Phebe  (Byrom),  6-7 

Collectanea,  22 

Collier,  Jeremy,  150 

Colman,  George,  the  Elder,  his 
play,  The  Jealous  Wife,  49, 
49  n;  Cumberland  pleased  by 
gift  of  works  from,  118;  letter 
to  Garrick  concerning  Cum- 
berland, 157-8;  produces  The 
Country  Attorney,  223-5 ;  his 
connection  with  The  Battle  of 
Hastings,  136-8;  mentioned, 
13-4,  45,  50,  63,  84,  110,  122- 
4,  134,  148,  188,  188  n,  237  n, 
324 

Colman,  George,  the  younger, 
289  n 

Combe,  William,  286 

Comicorum  Graecorum  Fragmenta 
(Walpole),  218 


Committee,  The  (Howard),  86 
Confession,  The,  265,  303-4,  324 
Congreve,  William,   54-5,   77,   102- 

3,  113,  289-90,  312 
Conscious  Lovers,  The  (Steele),  96, 

96  n 

Constable,  Archibald,  272,  277 
Cooke,  G.  F.,  57,  86,  234,  284 
Cope,  Arabella,  165  n 
Country  Attorney,  The,  223-5,  228, 

303 
Covent  Garden  Theatre,  41-4,  46, 

53,  53  n,  55-6,  136-7,  136  n,  147, 

151,  153-4,  155  n,  187,  193,  206, 
225  n,  229,  253-4,  255-6,  257  n, 
258  n,  265,  304  n,  321 

Cowley,  Abraham,  12 

Cowper,  William,  12,  14 

Cracherode,  Clayton,  13 

Crane,  Doctor,  25 

Critic,     The      (Sheridan),      145-9, 

169  n,  196 
Critical    Review,     The,    51-2,     54, 

54  n,  145 

Croker,  J.  W.,  286,  286  n 
Cross  Purposes  (O'Brien),  125  n 
Crouch,  Mrs.,  86,  241  n,  260,  260  n 
Crowe,  G.  W.,  274 
Cumberland,     Lady    Albinia,    299, 

299  n 
Cumberland,    Charles     (son),    133, 

299 
Cumberland,   Denison    (father),  2- 

4,  16,  28,  37,  64-6,  113,  289  n 
Cumberland,  Elizabeth  (daughter), 

166  n,    172-3,    180,    288  n,    290, 

299-300,  300  n 
Cumberland,      Frances      Marianne 

(daughter),    181,   293  n,   294  n, 

300 
Cumberland,  George  (cousin),  141, 

152,  177,  259,  269 
Cumberland,      George      (nephew), 

134 


354 


INDEX 


Cumberland,  George  (son),  133, 
299 

Cumberland,  Joanna  (sister),  8,  16 

Cumberland,  Mrs.  (mother),  3  6- 
8,  113,  212 

Cumberland,  Mrs.  (wife),  32-3,  61, 
68,  134,  161,  166,  166  n,  172, 
260,  292 

Cumberland,  Richard,  ancestry,  2; 
account  of  his  grandfather,  4- 
6;  influence  of  his  mother,  7-8; 
his  first  dramatic  effort,  7,  12; 
birth,  childhood,  and  early 
education,  8-18;  attends  Bury 
St.  Edmund  School,  8-12; 
writes  verses,  11;  attends 
Westminster  School,  12-15; 
death  of  his  sister,  16;  first 
visit  to  the  theatre,  16-18;  at- 
tends Trinity  College,  19-24; 
opponency  in  mathematics,  20, 
20  n;  attains  high  rank  among 
The  Wranglers,  21 ;  his  idea 
of  a  college  education,  21-2; 
ill-health,  20-21,  23;  becomes 
Secretary  to  Lord  Halifax,  25- 
7;  awarded  Fellowship,  28; 
his  description  of  Dodington, 
31-2;  his  marriage,  32-3; 
made  Ulster  secretary,  33 ; 
account  of  Faulkner,  34-5;  re- 
fuses baronetcy,  35-6;  his  in- 
fluence with  Lord  Halifax  lost, 
36-8;  becomes  Secretary  to  the 
Earl  of  Hillsborough,  38;  his 
opinion  of  Lord  Halifax,  38; 
his  early  dramatic  efforts,  39 ; 
meets  Garrick,  39-41 ;  his 
quarrel  with  Bickerstaff,  41-3 ; 
meets  'Gentleman'  Smith,  44- 
5 ;  letters  from  Garrick  to,  45, 
65,  106-7;  friendship  with 
Garrick,  47,  157-8;  his  stage 
acquaintances,  55-8;  his  atti- 


tude towards  the  American 
colonies,  59-60,  118-9;  his 
dramatic  qualifications,  61-3 ; 
Degree  of  Doctor  of  Civil  Law 
conferred  on,  74;  his  belief  in 
moral  drama,  102-3 ;  purpose 
of  his  plays,  103-4;  death  of 
his  father  and  mother,  113 ; 
account  of  Romney,  116-7;  his 
relations  with  Goldsmith,  120- 
32;  appointed  Secretary  of  the 
Board  of  Trade,  133;  his 
family,  133-4,  180,  299-300; 
meets  Sheridan,  137;  his  de- 
preciation of  The  School  for 
Scandal,  144-5 ;  his  description 
of  Soame  Jenyns,  159-60;  his 
relations  with  Johnson,  160-4; 
his  dislike  of  Fanny  Burney, 
164-9;  ambassadorship  to 
Spain,  172-83;  made  Provost 
Marshal,  182;  moves  to  Tun- 
bridge  Wells,  184;  his  friend- 
ship with  Sackville,  189-93; 
relations  with  Walpole,  196-8; 
his  opinion  of  Mrs.  Montagu, 
198-9;  his  friendship  with 
Romney,  199-200;  his  person- 
ality shown  in  The  Observer, 
208-11,  218-9;  as  a  critic,  211- 
2,  215-7;  his  novels,  226-7,  245- 
50;  his  poetry,  228;  his  clash 
with  Dibdin,  256-7;  his  clash 
with  Reynolds,  257-8;  visited 
by  Kelly  and  Bannister,  260- 
3;  writes  his  Memoirs,  269-71; 
publishes  The  London  Review, 
272-5 ;  public  activities  end, 
277;  his  friendship  with  young 
poets,  280-91;  wife's  death, 
292;  his  death,  297-8.  See  also 
the  titles  of  individual  works 
Cumberland,  Richard  (great- 
grandfather),  2,  116 


INDEX 


355 


Cumberland,     Richard     (grand- 
father), 2,  61 
Cumberland,    Richard    (son),    133, 

166  n,  299,  299  n 

Cumberland,  Richard    (uncle),  2 
Cumberland,    Richard    D  e  n  i  s  o  n 

(cousin),  141,  177,  177  n 
Cumberland,     Richard     Francis 

(grandson),  300 
Cumberland,     Sophia     (daughter), 

166  n,  172,  300 
Cumberland,   William    (son),    133, 

299 

Cunningham,  Allan,  115,  117  n 
Curtius  Rescued  from   the   Gulph, 

222 

Daly,  Augustin,  84 

Dampers,  207-8 

Dangers  of  Sudden  Elevation,  208 

D'Arblay,  Mme.  See  Burney, 
Fanny 

Davies,  Thomas,  his  Memoirs  of 
the  Life  of  David  Garrick 
cited,  47;  on  The  Brothers, 
48-9,  52-3,  56-7;  on  The  West 
Indian,  80,  80  n;  on  Timon  of 
Athens,  90;  on  The  Battle  of 
Hastings,  140,  143 ;  mentioned, 
120,  252,  313 

Dawson,  Mr.,  101  n 

Days  of  Geri,  The,  304 

Days  of  Yore,  The,  253-4,  318 

Dedication  to  Detraction,  111 

Defence  of  Christ's  Miracles 
Against  Modern  Cavils,  208 

Delany,  Mrs.,  94 

Delap,  John,  164  n,  167-8 

De  Legibus  Naturae  (Cumberland, 
great-grandfather  of  drama- 
tist), 2 

Dependant,  The,  253,  303 

Deserted  Village,  The  (Gold- 
smith), 131 


D'Estaing,  Count,  180 

DeWilde,  Samuel,  149  n 

Diary  (Burney),  167,  192,  198-9, 
299 

Diary   (Dodington),  32 

Diary  (Rogers),  282 

Diary  of  a  Lady-ln-W 'aiting ',  The, 
190 

Dibdin,  Charles,  on  The  Banish- 
ment of  Cicero,  40;  on  The 
Summer's  Tale,  42-3;  on  The 
Fashionable  Lover,  96-7;  on 
The  Note  of  Hand,  110;  on 
The  Battle  of  Hastings,  143; 
his  anger  at  Cumberland,  257 

Dibdin,  Thomas,  237  n,  256-7, 
257  n 

Dictionary  of  National  Biography, 
302  n 

Dilly,  Samuel,  185,  221,  282 

Diplomatic  Papers  of  Richard 
Cumberland,  183  n 

Dodd,  J.  W.,  98,  98  n 

Dodington,  G.  B.,  30-2 

Don  Pedro,  253-4,   303 

Donne,  John,  12 

Doran,  John,  89,  143,  320 

Doring,  Theodore,  231 

Dorset,  Duke  of,  165,  165  n 

Double  Dealer  (Congreve),  54,  188 

Douglas,  Dr.,  127,  130 

Douglas  (Home),  202 n 

Douglass,  Mr.,  83-4 

Dow,  Alexander,  255  n 

Dowton,  William,  236 

Drake,  Sir  Francis,  172 

Drake,  Nathan,  220 

Dramatic  Censor,  The,  82 

Drummond,  Adam,  123 

Drury  Lane  Theatre,  42  n,  46  n, 
49  n,  53  n,  54  n,  55,  57,  71,  81, 
85  n,  89,  93-4,  96  n,  98  n,  106, 
109-10,  137,  141,  143  n,  144, 
150,  153,  188  n,  201,  204,  225  n, 


356 


INDEX 


229,  231,  236,   251,  253-6,  258, 
260  n,  265-6,  289  n,  321 
Dryden,  John,  12,  147  n 
Dublin  Advertiser,  The,  153 
Dublin,  University  of,  74 
Duke  of  Milan,  The,  153-4,  303 
Duke  of  Milan    (Massinger),   153- 

4,  153  n,  303 

Dunham,  S.  A.,  206,  240,  240  n 
Duplicity   (Holcroft),  258  n 
Duport,  James,  15 
Dying  Horse,  The  (Blacket),  290  n 

Earle,  William,  147 

Eatoff,  Henry,  191 

Eccentricities  of  John  Edwin,  The, 
148 

Eccentric  Lover,  The,  255,  303,  321 

Eckhoff,  Konrad,  306  n 

Edinburgh  Review,  The,  248,  255, 
270,  274,  277 

Edwy  and  Elvina   (Burney),  251 

Ekins  Brothers,  28  n 

Elders,  The,  304,  304n 

Election,  The,  150-1,  303 

Elegy  on  St.  Mark's  Eve,  228 

Elfrida   (Mason),  23 

Elliston,  Robert,  235-6 

Encyclopedia  Britannica,  The, 
302  n,  304 

English  Bards  and  Scotch  Review- 
ers (Byron),  257  n,  275  n 

English  Review,  The,  202 

Envy,  211,  228 

Epictetus,  249 

Epistle  to  Dr.  Arbuthnot  (Pope), 
30 

Essay  on  Man  (Pope),  214 

Euclid,  20 

European  Magazine,  The,  200,  203, 
225,  229,  253-4,  307 

Evans,  Mr.,  72 

Evelina   (Burney),  168-9,  221 


Exodiad,  The,  272 
Eyre,  Lord,  66 

Fair  Circassian,  The    (Pratt),   187 
Fair    Penitent,    The     (Rowe),    16, 

16  n,  217 

Fairy  Queen  (Spenser),  24 
Faithful   Highlander,    The    (alter- 
native title  to  The  Fashionable 

Lover],  98-9 
False   Delicacy    (Kelly),    96,    96  n, 

125  n,  310,  314 
False  Demetrius,    The,   265,   266  n, 

303-4,  304  n,  321 
False    Impressions,    254,    316,    321, 

327 

Farquhar,  George,  84,  102 
Farren,  Miss,  77,  86-7,  223-5,  308 
Fashionable    Lover,     The,    88-102, 

105,   156,   164,  259,  269,  305-6, 

309-10,   312,   315,   317-20 
Fatal    Dowry,    The     (Massinger), 

16  n,  217 

Faulkner,  George,  34,  34  n,  36n,  68 
Faulkner,  Mary  Anne,  36,  36  n 
Faulkner,  Mrs.,  34 
Feast  of  Reason,  The,  221 
Fenton,  Elijah,  153-4 
Few     plain     Reasons     Why     We 

Should   Believe    in    Christ,   A, 

267 

Field,  Nathaniel,  217 
Fielding,  Henry,  30,  205,  226,  245-7, 

310,  321 
First  Love,  253,  284,  306,  308,  312, 

315-6,  318 

Fitzgerald,  Percy,  138 
Fitzherbert,  William,  47,  47  n,  93  n, 

105,   124 
Fletcher,  John.     See  Beaumont  and 

Fletcher 

Fletcher,  Sir  Robert,  119 
Foote,   Samuel,   30,   34,   72,   84,   93, 

93  n,  96  n,  103,  105,  118-20,  158 


INDEX 


357 


Forster,  John,  122,  124,  129 

Foster,  Vere,  7 

Foundling,     The     (Fielding),    205, 

•  248 

Foundling,  The  (Moore),  98  n 
Fox,  Charles,  31,  31  n,  111 
Fox,  The  (Jonson),  216 
Fry,  Henry,  297-8,  300 
Fugitive,  The   (Richardson),  196 

Gamester,  The  (Moore),  218 
Garrick,  David,  his  genius  in 
Rowe's  Fair  Penitent,  16-8; 
letters  from  Hoadley  to,  33  n; 
his  judgment  on  The  Banish- 
ment of  Cicero,  39-40;  on 
Timon  of  Athens,  45,  50  n; 
attends  performance  of  The 
Brothers,  46-7 ;  his  Miss  in  her 
Teens,  54;  Cumberland  im- 
plores his  judgment  upon 
plays,  63-5;  his  connection 
with  The  West  Indian,  68-74, 
81-5,  85  n;  his  connection  with 
The  Fashionable  Lover,  91-2; 
his  jealousy  of  Henderson,  107- 
9;  criticism  of  Romney  by,  116- 
7;  writes  epitaph  upon  Gold- 
smith, 127;  his  connection  with 
The  Battle  of  Hastings,  137- 
41;  death  of,  157;  his  opinion 
of  Cumberland,  47,  157-8; 
mentioned,  2,  41,  44,  50,  58, 
79,  86,  88-9,  93,  93  n,  105-6, 
110,  119,  129-30,  134-6,  160, 
170,  217,  223,  257,  284,  298, 
305-6,  313,  320,  326 
Garrick,  Mrs.,  68 
Gay,  John,  41 

General  Magazine,  The,  224,  229 

Genest,    John,    on    The    Summer's 

Tale,  42;    on   Amelia,  43;    on 

The     Brothers,     54;     on     The 

Fashionable    Lover,    97-8;    on 


The  Bondman,  153;  on  The 
Mysterious  Husband,  195;  on 
Don  Pedro  and  The  Days  of 
Yore,  254;  mentioned,  189  n, 
203  n,  229,  242,  255,  302,  304, 
311 

Gentleman,  Francis,  82 

Gentleman's  and  Lady's  Weekly 
Magazine,  255  n 

Gentleman's  Magazine,  The,  78-9, 
79  n,  97,  115,  130,  176  n,  181, 
185,  190-1,  196  n,  219,  223,  228, 
268,  300,  327 

George  the  Third,  177 

Georgics   (verse  translation),  228 

Germain,  George  Sackville.  See 
Sackville,  Viscount 

Gibbon,  Edward,  160,  184,  264 

Gifford,  William,  217 

Glover,  Richard,  30 

Godfrey,  Miss,  280 

Goethe,  J.  W.  v.,  306,  306  n 

Goldsmith,  Oliver,  his  characteri- 
zation of  Cumberland,  1 ;  his 
dislike  of  sentimental  drama, 
120-1;  his  play,  She  Stoops  to 
Conquer,  122-6;  his  Retalia- 
tion, 126-31,  268;  Cumber- 
land's opinion  of,  131-2;  men- 
tioned, 62,  93,  105,  117,  134, 
150,  215,  264,  282,  309,  316 

Goodman's  Fields  Theatre,  17 

Good  Natured  Man,  The  (Gold- 
smith), 122 

Gramont,  Comte  de,  106 

Gray,  Thomas,  114-5,  134-5,  155-6, 
215,  279 

Gray,  William,  279 

Graybeard's  Gossip  about  his 
Literary  Acquaintance,  A 
(Smith),  284 

Gray's  Inn  Journal  (Murphy), 
165  n 

Green,  Mrs.,  55-6 


358 


INDEX 


Greville,   Colonel,   286 

Griffith,  Elizabeth,  121,  125  n,  309 

Halifax,  Lord,  Secretaryship  of 
Cumberland  to,  24-30;  chosen 
Lord-Lieutenant  of  Ireland, 
33;  death  of  his  wife,  35;  of- 
fers Cumberland  baronetcy, 
35;  Cumberland  loses  influence 
upon,  36-8;  mentioned,  32,  39- 
40,  47-8,  61-2,  227,  283 

Hamilton,  W.  G.,  33 

Hammond,  James,  23,  23  n 

Hanbury's  Theatre,  150 

Harley,  Thomas,  13 

Harris,  George,  55-6 

Hastings,  Warren,  13,  197  n 

Hayley,  William,  197,  200 

Haymarket  Theatre,  109,  224, 
225  n,  230,  253,  279  n,  289 

Hazlitt,  William,  86,  264 

Henderson,  John,  107-10,  188-9, 
206,  211,  284 

Henry,  245-50,  254,  269 

Herbert,  George,  12 

Hermit,  The  (Goldsmith),  131 

Hervey,  F.  A.,  13 

Hettner,  Hermann,  325 

Heywood,  Thomas,  195,  305 

Hickey,  Tom,  127,  127  n 

Higgs,  John,  27 

Hill,  Joseph,  14 

Hillsborough,  Earl  of,  38,  174,  180 

Hinchliffe,  John,   14 

Hint  to  Husbands,  A,  265,  272,  312, 
315,  325,  327 

History  of  India,  29 

History  of  the  Theatres  of  London 
(Victor),  49 

Hitchman,  Francis,-  249,  299  n 

Hoadley,  Doctor,  33  n,  89,  91,  306, 
313 

Hoare,  Prince,  255  n,  308,  312 

Hobart,  George,  13 


Holcroft,    Thomas,    62,    159,    185, 

258-60,  309-11,  316 
Holland,  Lord,  283 
Home,  John,  155,  202  n 
Homer,  5,  10 
Horace,  25,  290 
How    to    grow    Rich     (Reynolds), 

257 

Humility,  228 
Hunt,  Leigh,  149  n 
Hunter,  A.  G.,  277 
Hussey,    Abbe,    172-5,    180,    189  n, 

291,  291  n 
Huxley,  Thomas,  282  n 

Imposters,  The,  229-30,  312,  324 
Inchbald,  Mrs.,  41,  67,  81,  243-4 
Ireland,  W.  H.,  143,  143  n 
Iron  Chest,  The  (Colman),  289 
Isted,  Ambrose,  28,  35 

James,  Dr.  Robert,  114-5 

Jansen,  Mrs.  See  Cumberland, 
Frances  Marianne 

Jealous  Wife,  The  (Colman),  49, 
49  n 

Jeffrey,  Francis,  270 

Jenyns,  Soame,  159-60,  169 

Jephson,  Robert,  251 

Jew,  The,  231-8,  244,  250,  284,  306, 
313,  315 

Jew  and  the  Doctor,  The  (Dibdin), 
237  n,  256 

Jew  of  Mogadore,  The,  260  n,  265- 
6,  294 

Joanna  of  Montefaucon,  265 

John  De  Lancaster,  275-7,  295-6 

Johnson,  Doctor  (Bishop  of  Wor- 
cester), 14 

Johnson,  Samuel,  on  Cumberland's 
patronage  of  Romney,  117; 
reads  Cumberland's  epitaph  on 
Goldsmith,  127-8;  social  rela- 
tions with  Cumberland,  160-5; 


INDEX 


359 


Cumberland's  comparison  of 
Burke  and,  170-1 ;  on  The 
Walloons,  187;  mentioned,  2, 
50,  62,  101,  105,  122-4,  130, 
132,  158,  167,  169,  184,  197, 
221-2,  264,  282 

Johnstone,   John,    86 

Jonathan  Wild  (Fielding),  32 

Jonson,  Ben,  216 

Journal  of  G.  F.  Cooke,  57,  234 

Juvenal,  11 

Kaunitz,  Count,  177,  180,  180  n 

Keats,  John,  264 

Kelly,  Hugh,  his  False  Delicacy, 
96,  96  n,  125  n,  310,  314;  his 
The  Man  of  Reason,  136, 
136  n;  mentioned,  62,  77,  84, 
121,  125-6,  l^.rt*  159,  309-12, 
316 

Kelly,  Michael,rl45  n,  185,  241  n, 
260-3,  265-6 

Kemble,  Charles,  240-2,  251,  267  n 

King,  Thomas,  81-3,  86 

King  Lear  (Shakespeare),  81 

King's  Theatre,  260  n 

Kinsman,  Arthur,  9-11,  14 

Knapp,  Rev.  William,  50 

Knight,  Joseph,  203  n 

Know  Your  Own  Mind  (Murphy), 
165  n 

Kotzebue,  A.  F.  F.  v.,  243-4 

Lackington,  George,  269 

Lady's  Magazine,  The,  76,  80,  146, 

201,  203-4,  238,  265 
Lamb,  Charles,  98,  98  n,  225  n,  235, 

264 

Landor,  W.  S.,  264 
Langton,  Bennet,  169 
Lansdowne,  Lord,  283 
Last  of  the  Family,  The,  254,  258, 

260  n,  303,  318,  321,  325 


Laugh  When  You  Can  (Reynolds), 

256 

Lee,  Nathaniel,  84 
Lennox,   Charlotte,   121-2,   125,   309 
Leonidas  (Glover),  30 
Lewis,  W.  T.,  86 
Life  of  Cicero  (Middleton),  39 
Life  of  George  Romney   (Hayley), 

200 
Life    of    Johnson    (Boswell),    126, 

164 

Lillo,  George,  195,  310,  323 
Lincoln's  Inn  Fields  Theatre,  16  n, 

153  n 
Lines   on   the   Discovery   of  India, 

228 

Literary  Club,  The,  163 
Literary  Journal,  The,  328 
Little  French  Lawyer,  The   (Beau- 
mont and  Fletcher),  54,  54  n 
Lives    of   the   Sheridans    (Fitzger- 
ald), 138 

Llandaff,  Bishop  of,  222 
Lloyd,  Pierson,  12-3 
Lloyd,  Robert,  12-4,  42,  42  n 
Lloyd's  Evening  Post,  92,  110,  112, 

146,  151,  154-5 
Locke,  John,    12 
London  Chronicle,  The,  53,  56,  77, 

86,  202,  253-4,  300 
London  Examiner,  The,  294-5 
London  Institution,  The,  283  n 
London  Magazine,   The,  80,   110-1, 

202-3 
London  Review,  The,  42,  53-5,  95, 

97,  100,  142,  152  n 
London    Review,     The     (Cumber- 
land), 272-5,  277-9,  281 
London,  Bishop  of,  268 
Lopez  de  la  Vega,  188 
Love   a    la   Mode    (Macklin),    80, 

80  n,  99,  99  n 
Love  for  Love  (Congreve),  289 


INDEX 


Love  in  a  Village  (Bickerstaff),  41, 

43 

Love  of  Praise,  The,  207 
Lovers'  Resolutions,  265,  303,  321 
Lowth,  Bishop,  222  n 
Luxborough,  Lady,  135 
Lysius,  Rev.  Daniel,  251 
Lyttleton,  Lord,  81 

Macbeth   (Shakespeare),  278 

Macklin,  Charles,  55,  80,  80  n,  84, 
98-9 

Macnamara,  Captain,  287 

Macpherson,  James,  105,  125,  253 

Madan,  Spencer,  27 

Maid  of  Bath,  The  (Foote),  119 

Maid  of  the  Mill,  The  (Bicker- 
staff),  41 

Maltby,  William,  283,  283  n 

Man,  Henry,  304  n 

Man  of  Reason,  The  (Kelly),  136, 
136  n 

Man  of  the  World,  The  (Macklin), 
99 

Manchester,  Duchess  of,  152,  152  n 

Mansfield,  Lord,  228 

Marianne   (Fenton),  153-4 

Mason,  William,  23,  114-5,  134-5, 
182,  186,  197 

Massinger,  Philip,  16  n,  153-4,  217 

Mathews,  Charles,  149,  149  n 

Mattocks,  Isabella,  57 

Melcombe,  Lord,  32 

Melissa,  214 

Memoirs  of  Mrs.  Crouch,  86 

Memoirs  of  Richard  Cumberland, 
4-5,  14,  23,  29,  33,  47,  50,  55, 
59,  72,  79,  81,  102,  113,  116  n, 
122-3,  129,  134,  150,  160,  169, 
172  n,  181-2,  198,  228,  236,  247, 
249,  264,  266-7,  269-71,  279  n, 
280,  282,  291-4,  296,  300,  302, 
305,  308-9;  Supplement,  270 


Memoirs  of  Sheridan  (Watkins), 
143-4,  146 

Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  David 
Garrick  (Davies),  47,  80  n 

Middleton,  Conyers,  39 

Millar,  John,  312,  324 

Mills,  Sir  Thomas,  94,  94  n 

Misanthropy  and  Repentance 
(Kotzebue),  243 

Miss  in  her  Teens  (Garrick),  54 

Moliere,  J.  B.  P.,  112 

Montagu,  George,  48 

Montagu,  Mrs.,  30,  81,  118,  197-9, 
221 

Montgomery,  Colonel,  287 

Monthly  Miscellany,  The,  110 

Monthly  Review,  The,  52,  76,  220, 
232-3,  239,  326 

Moody,  John,  82-3,  93,  110 

Moore,  Thomas,  2,  98  n,  129,  264, 
274-5,  277,  280-1,  284,  295 

More,  Hannah,  114,  278-80,  280  n 

Mouth  of  the  Nile  or  The  Glorious 
First  of  August  (Dibdin),  256 

Mudford,  William,  144  n,  182,  222, 
222  n,  240,  244,  292 

Murphy,  Arthur,  Mrs.  Yates  in  his 
play,  The  Orphan  of  China, 
46  n ;  on  Timon  of  Athens,  90; 
on  the  Dedication  to  Detrac- 
tion, 111;  favorite  of  Mrs. 
Thrale's,  165,  165  n;  his  criti- 
cism of  Cumberland,  252 ; 
mentioned,  30,  84,  106,  110,  324 

Murray,  John,  272,  276 

Murray,  Thomas,  116 

Mysterious  Husband,  The,  189, 
193-6,  200-1,  306,  321,  323 

Mysterious  Mother,  The  (Wai- 
pole),  193 

Nanine   (Voltaire),  309 
Nashe,  Thomas,  215 


INDEX 


Natural  Son,  The,  190,  204-5,  224, 

311,  313-4,  320 
Neele,  Henry,  329 
Nelson,  Lord,  172 
New    London     Theatre     (Dibdin), 

256 
New  System  of  Domestic  Cookery, 

formed     upon     Principles     of 

Economy   (Smith),  274  n 
Newcastle,  Duke  of,  26 
Newman,  Cardinal,  268 
Newton,  Sir  Isaac,  19 
Nicolas  Pedrosa,  207 
Nicoll,  John,  14-5,  142 
Nonsense  Club,  The,  14 
North,  Lord,  132,  183  n,  184,  283 
Northcote,    James,    46  n,    121,    126, 

130,  157,  163,  170 
Note  of  Hand,  The,  106,  110,  143, 

305,  324,  327 
Notion  that  Death  may  be  Avoided 

at  Will,  207 

Nugent,  Lord  Clare,  80  n 
Nuncio  Colonna,  The,  178 

Obrallachan,  Sir  Callochan,  80 
O'Brien,  William,  122,  125,  125  n 
Observer,    The,    16  n,    21-2,    161-2, 

190,  198-200,  203  n,  206-15,  217- 

21,  233,  248,  255,  269,  295,  300 
O'Burne,  King,  78,  79  n 
Occasional  Prelude,   The,  229,   303 
Ode  to  Doctor  Robert  James,  114 
Ode  to  the  Sun,  114 
O'Hara,  Kane,  84 
O'Keeffe,  John,  67,  101  n 
Old  Bachelor,  The  (Congreve),  55 
On  Gaming,  207-8 
On  the  Marriage  of  Miss  Sackville 

to  Mr.  Herbert,  190,  228 
On  True  Greatness   (Fielding),  30 
O'Rourke,     Thomas,     anecdote     of, 

3-4 


Orphan  of  China,  The   (Murphy), 

46  n 

Ossory,  Countess  of,  56,  106,  197 
Othello    (Shakespeare),  211 
Oulton,  W.  C.,  254 
Ovid,  12 

Oxberry,  William,  237,  289  n 
Oxford  Magazine,  The,  53,  101  n 

Palamon  and  Arcite,  304,  304  n 

Pallavicini,  Count,  178,  180 

Palmer,  John,  203,  203  n 

Palmer,  R.,  258 

Parr,  Samuel,  222,  282-3 

Parsons,  William,  149,  149  n 

Passive  Husband,  The  (alternative 
title  to  A  Word  for  Nature}, 
255,  303,  324 

Patmore,  Coventry,  304  n 

Peltier,  Monsieur,  286 

Pepys,  Samuel,  2 

Pepys,  Sir  William,  279,  279  n 

Percy,  Thomas,  186 

Percy   (More),  255,  279-80 

Pharsalia,  19 

Philodamus     (Bentley),     134,     155, 

155  n 

Philostratus,  216 
Pic-Nic,  272,  286 
Pinckney,  Mr.,  59,  266 
Pindar,  183 
Pisistratus,  208 
Pitt,  William,  59,  292 
Pliny,  209 

Poetical  Epistle  to  Dr.   Goldsmith, 
or  Supplement  to  his  'Retalia- 
tion,' 130 
Pope,  Alexander,  4-6,    10,   30,   214, 

256 

Pope,  Mrs.  Maria  Ann,  57,  206 
Person,  Richard,  283  n 
Portland,    Duke    and    Duchess    of, 

300 
Post,  Mr.,  94 


362 


INDEX 


Posthumous  Dramatick  Works  of 
Richard  Cumberland,  293  n, 
303,  321 

Pownall,  John,  26 

Pratt,  Samuel,  187 

Pride,  228,  290  n 

Priestley,   Joseph,   282-3 

Princess  of  Parma,  The,  150,  303 

Prior,  E.,  7 

Prior,  Matthew,  25 

Prior,  Sir  James,  124,  126,  132 

Propertius,  12 

Prudery,  225 

Public  Advertiser,  The,  147  n,  148, 
151,  156,  186 

Puffing,  209-10 

Pye,  H.  J.,  274 

Quarterly  Review,  The,  274,  276 

Quick,  John,  55-6 

Quin,  James,  16-7,  25,  31,  217 

Rae,  Alexander,  289,  289  n 

Reddish,  Samuel,  70-1,  85 

Retaliation  (Goldsmith),  1,  126-31, 
268 

Retrospection,  38,  134,  162,  294,  297 

Review  of  the  Samson  Agonistes, 
207,  216 

Review  of  the  Systems  of  the 
Heathen  Philosophers,  23 

Reynolds,  Frederick,  257-8 

Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  his  portrait 
of  Garrick,  46  n;  Cumber- 
land's lines  to,  130;  his  ac- 
quaintance with  Cumberland, 
169-70;  mentioned,  105,  122, 
127,  127  n,  161,  163,  184,  186  n, 
199,  264 

Reynolds,  Richard,  28  n 

Richard  Coeur  de  Lion  (Burges), 
272 

Richardson,  Joseph,  196 

Richardson,  Samuel,  226 


Richmond,  Duke  of,  12 

Ridge,  Elizabeth.  See  Cumber- 
land, Mrs.  (wife) 

Ridge,  George,  32-3,  33  n 

Rival,  The   (O'Brien),  125  n 

Road  to  Ruin,  The  (Holcroft), 
258  n,  259 

Robber,  The,  265,  303 

Robinson,  H.  C,  272 

Robson,  James,  115 

Rodney,  Admiral,  133,  172,  175 

Rogers,  Samuel,  2,  4,  203  n,  211, 
260,  264,  277,  280-4,  291,  295 

Romance  of  the  Forest,  The,  249 

Romney,  George,  Cumberland's 
description  of,  115-7;  his 
friendship  for,  170,  199-200; 
his  portraits  of  Cumberland, 
116  n;  mentioned,  2,  119,  158, 
228,  291,  300  n 

Rosciad  (Churchill),  44 

Rowe,  Nicholas,  16,  16  n,  84,  217, 
315 

Rubens,  Sir  P.  P.,  186 

Rutland  Volunteers  Influez'd,  251  n 

Sackville,  Eliza,  190 

Sackville,  John  Frederick.  See 
Dorset,  Duke  of 

Sackville,  Viscount,   133,   189-93 

Sailor's  Daughter,  The,  265,  318, 
328 

St.  James  Chronicle,  The,  95,  100, 
112,  142,  146 

St.  James  Coffee-House,  The,  127 

Salome,  63,  66 

Samson  Agonistes   (Milton),  216 

Santa,  Count  Pietra,  179,  179  n 

Saturday  Review,  The,  307 

Saul  (Southey),  272 

School  for  Scandal,  The  (Sheri- 
dan), 81,  144-5,  145  n,  238 

School  for  Widows,  The,  229,  303 

School  for  Wives,  A  (Kelly),  125  n 


INDEX 


363 


Scot's  Magazine,  110,  141 

Scott,  John,  197,  197  n 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  on  The  Fair 
Penitent,  16  n;  on  The  Sum- 
mer's Tale  and  Amelia,  43; 
on  The  Battle  of  Hastings, 
143 ;  on  Mathews  as  Sir  Fret- 
ful Plagiary,  149 ;  on  Arun- 
del,  226-  on  The  Wheel  of 
Fortune,  240,  240  n ;  on  Henry, 
247;  mentioned,  2,  264,  272-3, 
276-7,  289,  304,  307,  311,  328 

Sedgewicke,  Mr.,   37 

Seilharner,  G.  O.,  83 

Sethona  (Dow),  255  n 

Sevigne,  Mme.  de,  106 

Seward,  Miss,  202 

Shadwell,  Thomas,  89-90,  103,  110, 
112 

Shakespear  in  the  Shades,  7,  12, 
305  n 

Shakespeare,  William,  7,  12,  45, 
83-4,  89-91,  142-3,  143  n,  147, 
156,  158,  212,  216,  236 

Sharpe,  C.  K.,  273,  273  n 

Sharpe,  Richard,  228,  287,  287  n 

Shaw,  R.  G.,  267  n 

She  Stoops  to  Conquer  (Gold- 
smith), 122-6,  129,  169,  320, 
326 

Shelley,  P.  B.,  264 

Shenstone,  William,  135 

Sheridan,  R.  B.,  his  connection  with 
The  Battle  of  Hastings,  137- 
41,  143;  his  play,  The  School 
for  Scandal,  144-5;  his  farce, 
The  Critic,  145-9;  his  changed 
attitude  toward  Cumberland, 
265-7;  Cumberland's  opinion 
of,  150;  mentioned,  50,  63,  105, 
109,  111,  195-6,  144  n,  236,  261, 
301,  304  n 

Sheridaniana,  144,  145  n 

Shuter,  Edward,  86 


Sichel,  W.  S.,  150n 

Siddons,  Mrs.,  202-4,  251,  283-4 

Sighs,    or   the   Daughter    (Hoare), 

255  n 
Sir  Fretful  Plagiary,  1,  124,  145-6, 

149,  150,  196,  261,  271,  291,  301 
Sister,  The  (Lennox),  122 
Smith,    'Gentleman,'    44,    51,    55-6, 

139 
Smith,  Horace,  272,  274,  277,  284- 

91,  296 
Smith,  James,  274,  274  n,  277,  284, 

286,  290,  301 
Smith,  Samuel,  14 
Smollett,  Tobias,  53,  57,  310 
Southey,  Robert,  264,  272 
Spectator,   The,  6,  21,  219 
Spenser,  Edmund,  24 
Squire  of  Alsatia  (Shadwell),  112, 

112n 
Steele,  Richard,  84,  96  n,  310,  315, 

323 

Stephen,  Leslie,  244,  302  n,  313 
Sterne,  Laurence,  27,  135,  270 
Stone,  Primate,  33 
Story  of  Melissa,  The,  207 
Stranger,  The    (Kotzebue),  243 
Suett,  Richard,  241  n 
Suicide,  The   (Colman),  188,  188  n 
Summer  (Thomson),  30 
Summer's   Tale,  The,  41-4,  61,  303 
Swift,  Jonathan,  4,  34 
Sybil,   The,  or   The  Elder  Brutus, 

265,  303,  321 
Sylvester   Daggervuood    (Colman), 

237  n 

Taste  (Foote),  96,  96  n 

Taylor,  John,   16  n,    196,   217,  278, 

278  n 

Terence,  110,  112 
Thespian  Dictionary,  The,  83,  304 
Thomson,  James,  30 
Thorndyke,  A.  H.,  195 


364 


INDEX 


Thornton,  Bonnell,  14 

Thrale,    Mrs.,    129,    159-60,    163-5, 

166  n,  167-9,  187,  250 
Three      Weeks      after      Marriaje 

(Murphy),  165  n 
Tiberius,  259,  259  n,  262-3 
Tiberius    in    Capreae,    265,    303-4, 

321 

Tibullus,  12 
Timon    of   Athens,    34  n,    45,    50  n, 

88-91,  112,  145  n 
Timon  of  Athens   (Shadwell),  89- 

90 

Tipper,  Mr.,  272 
Tiranna,  The,  178-80 
Titian,  178 
To  Oliver  Goldsmith  and  Richard 

Cumberland   (Barnard),  131 
Tom  Jones   (Fielding),  245 
Torrendal,  265,  303-4,  321 
Touchstone  (Dibdin),  257  n 
Town  and  Country  Magazine,  The, 

52,  56,  68,  80,  95,  97,  110,  141, 

146,  151,  153,  194 
Townsend,    George,   274-5 
Tragic  Story  of  a  Portuguese  Gen- 
tleman, who  died  by  the  Rack, 

214 

Traveller  (Goldsmith),  131 
Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  8,  16, 

19-24,  133,  274  n 
Turk's    Head    Coffee-House,    The, 

278  n 

Tweddell,  John,  282,  282  n 
Twiss,  Horace,  274 

Udall,  Nicholas,  12 

Unfortunate     Traveller     (Nashe), 

215 

Universal  History,  23,  23  n,  25,  27 
Universal  Magazine,  The,  52,  112, 

153,   194-5,  204-5,  232-3,  242 
Upholsterer,  The  (Murphy),  165  n 


Vanbrugh,  Sir  John,  113 

Vandemere,  John,  57 

Vanity,  228 

Venice  Preserved   (Otway),  225  n 

Verses  on  the  Death  of  the  Prince 
of  Wales,  228 

Vicar  of  Wake  field,  The  (Gold- 
smith), 132 

Victor,  Benjamin,  49,  71 

Victory  and  Death  of  Lord  Nelson, 
The,  265,  303 

Village  Fete,  The,  254-5,  303 

Vincent,  William,   14,  298-9,  299  n 

Voltaire,  Frangois,  309 

Vortigern  .(Ireland),  143,  143  n 

Walker,  Doctor,  5-6 

Walloons,  The,  164,  187-9,  189  n, 
303,  306,  316,  320,  324 

Walpole,  Horace,. attitude  of  Dod- 
ington  towards,  31,  31  n;  on 
The  Brothers,  47-8,  56;  on 
Timon  of  Athens,  89 ;  on  dedi- 
cation of  Cumberland's  odes  to 
Romney,  115;  on  The  Battle 
of  Hastings,  Calypso,  The 
Widow  of  Delphi,  155-6; 
comments  on  Cumberland's 
ambassadorship  to  Spain,  182- 
3 ;  on  Anecdotes  of  eminent 
Painters  in  Spain,  186-7;  his 
Mysterious  Mother,  193 ;  his 
ridicule  of  Cumberland,  196- 
8;  mentioned,  84,  85  n,  106, 
114,  117,  134-5,  158,  184-5, 
185  n,  218 

Walsingham,  Lord,  183  n 

Walter,  J.,  39 

Warburton,  Bishop,  10,  40,  222  n 

Ward,  A.  W.,  302  n,  304,  325 

Warren  Brothers,   10-11 

Warren,  Sir  George,  118 

Warton,  Thomas,  197,  197  n 

Warwick,  Lady,   118 


INDEX 


365 


Waterhouse,     Osborn,     302  n,     317, 

325 

Watkins,  John,  143-4,  146 
Way    of    the    World,    The    (Con- 

greve),  312 
Weimar-Tiefurt      Court     Theatre, 

306  n 

Wellington,  Duke  of,  300 
West,  Benjamin,  199 
West  Indian,  The,  66-89,  91-5,  101- 

2,  105,  122,  126,  134,  142,  154, 

159,   188,  205,   205  n,  228,  243, 

250,   254,   259,   260  n,  269,  284, 

295,  305,  315-6,  318-20,  329 
Westminster  Abbey,  298 
Westminster   Magazine,    The,   145, 

152,  154,  187,  205 
Westminster    School,    9,    12,    14-6, 

133,  142 

Weston,  Thomas,  101  n,  113 
Whalley,  Dr.  and  Mrs.,  203 
Wheel  of  Fortune,  The,  231,  238- 

45,  250,  284,  306,  313,  316,  319, 

324-5,  327 

Whitefoord,  Caleb,  127,  127  n 
Whitehall  Evening  Post,   The,  41, 

61,  71,  76,  85,  93,  96,  99 


Whitehead,  William,  84 

Widow  of  Delphi  or  The  Descent 

of  the  Deities,  The,  154-6,  257, 

303,  305 
Widow's  Only  Son,  The,  265,  295, 

303,  306 

Wilkinson,  Tate,  53,  53  n,   56 
Will,  The   (Reynolds),  258 
Wit,  228 

Woffington,  Mrs.,  34  n 
Wonder!      A     Woman     Keeps     a 

Secret,  The    (Centlivre),  98-9, 

99  n 

Woodward,  Henry,  55-7 
Word  for  Nature  or  The  Passive 

Husband,  A,  255,  303,  318 
Word  to  the  Wise,  A   (Kelly),  84 
Wordsworth,  William,  264 
Wranglers,  The,  21,  21  n 
Wraxall,  Sir  N.  W.,  189-90 
Wroughton,  Richard,   57,  258 
Wycherley,  William,  77,  113 

Yates,  Mrs.,  46,  46  n,  56-7,  140 
Yates,  Richard,  55-7 
Young,  Edward,  30,  85 


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YC ! 04867 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


